Freedom's Price
by RenegadeMage
Summary: Thrown into a battle he never believed he would succeed, Dorian Amell must become the savior the world needs and a hero of legends. Destined to save a world that condemned him at birth, he must let go of his fears and hate. He must defeat the Blight and earn his freedom. But freedom has its price, and the mage isn't sure he can pay it. Not if it costs him the one he loves...
1. Long Way From Home

_Chapter One: Long Way From Home_

The young mage stood for a moment, staring out onto the lake. He looked around him, at the place he once called a home. He spent his life there, the people inside had raised him since he could remember. They were his protectors, guardians and mentors. The closest he ever knew of a family. This was his life, his home. All that didn't matter now, how quickly things changed. The certainty, the protection, were now gone. Once he stepped beyond those gates, he was to never return. He would no longer be welcome in the Circle of Magi.

Warned his whole life he was to always live in the Tower and would never be safe elsewhere, he feared the change. But despite his terror, there was curiosity. A wonder to the life the Templars never offered. He would not be seen as a danger to people, and would not be hunted. He would be free to practice magic in public. He would not be hated. Not by his once protectors, at least. He carried with him the few possessions he owned. Some robes, boots, clothes and his many books. His staff was confiscated from him, to atone for his crimes. For helping a friend.

"Here, take this." he turned to see his rescuer. Duncan, of the Grey Wardens.

If he was not there, the boy would no longer be breathing. The man was very large, his skin an olive complexion. His hair was deep black and he had a short beard. The young mage had never seen anyone like him. Something about him seemed foreign, mysterious. But what did he know of distant lands, only what he read on the pages of his many books.

"First Enchanter wanted you to have it." He handed the young mage an Enchanter staff, possibly the one taken from him.

"But, Knight Commander said I was to leave without one… for my crimes…" the boy's voice was shaky and quiet. He twisted his hands into knots and squeezed. He avoided eye contact.

"Irving believes you deserve better, but we best leave now before anyone grows the wiser. Come, young Amell."

The mage cringed at the name. Everyone knew better in the tower than to call him that. That was no longer his name, not since the moment he stepped foot in the Circle. What ties did he own to the family that wished his death?

"Please, do not call me that…."

"I apologies, I was not told your first name."

"Dorian."

There was a good chance this was not even his proper name. A child born of Kirkwall, his name was hard to pronounce. The Templars who collected him struggled to articulate the noble name his parents gave him. They did the best they could. So there was a probability Dorian was a different interpretation of his real name. This didn't matter to him. Most of his life he was Dorian, he would remain so until he died.

The two boarded the small boat and crossed Lake Calenhad. Dorian vaguely remembered the only time he had ever crossed it. It was roughly fifteen years ago. He was such a small boy, pale faced and frightened. He had traveled months over the seas and reached the docks. There the Templars caring for him took him to this very boat. He had arrived with several other children, all from different places. One in particular, would not leave him alone. This boy, became his only friend. He suppressed the memory, he did not want to think of the man who betrayed him. Left him to die, or worse.

He stared down into the water. Taking in the reflection he saw. His thin face, pale and gaunt stared back at him. His short scruffy black hair hung in his eyes, unkempt and uneasy to tame. He brushed the hair out of his eyes, his bright blue eyes, the eyes he was once told belonged to his mother. Often told they were unnaturally bright, he thought them his only unique feature. His ears poked out to the sides awkwardly, as they always did. He had the slightest hint of stubble, cursing himself for not shaving earlier. He hated to look untidy. He looked like a typical mage, awkward and pale. Nothing special, or heroic. Not what he thought a Warden should look like. Duncan, he was how a hero should look.

_I won't last a week. _

"We will take a caravan waiting for us at the docks. We will be travelling south through the Hinterlands, to the ruins of Ostagar on the edges of the Korcari Wilds…."Duncan began his history lesson, much to Dorian's surprise and he had not uttered a word sooner. He seemed far away as he spoke. "The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the Wilders from invading the Northern Lowlands. It is fitting we shall make our stand there, even if we face a different foe in that forest." Duncan looked over to the boy, his eyes returning to the present.

"It will be a long journey, is there anything you require? We will have food and preparations, but if there is anything further you need just request it." Duncan smiled at his companion. He seemed strict, and yet warm.

"Uh, no I am fine… thank you…" he paused. "What is at Ostagar?"

"The begging of the Blight." Duncan's eyes hardened, he turned away. Possibly returning to where he was a moment before.

Dorian knew all too well about the Blight. Even a sheltered life, the mages knew all there was to know of the evil the lurked beyond. More times than not, they were blamed by the Templars for causing the Blight. As it was the Mages of Tevinter who corrupted the world, and unleashed… the darkspawn. It was also those very same mages, who damned ones like Dorian to a life of imprisonment. They had ruined many lives, and their creations continued to ruin more.

Evil, twisted monsters the darkspawn were corrupted souls, tortured and unable to leave the earth. Rejected by the Fade itself.

Thinking of the monsters of nightmares, the mage began to tremble. He was to fight creatures of pure destruction, pure fear. He had never faced any dangers, none that his mind could not overcome. Being a mage, he endured dangers mages needed to worry about. Demons, the undead, occasional possessed creatures. Things his natural abilities could easily handle. Darkspawn seemed like a bad dream, something he didn't know how to prepare for.

Dorian was to help defeat them, and the Blight? He was expected to risk it all and help save the world? How? He barely knew how to speak in an audible tone and he was to be thrown into battle and thwart danger. Duncan assured him he would not be in the front line of battles, he would just be in the distance helping where he could. He was still terrified. He had never crossed Lake Calenhad, and now he was being sent to what he thought was an inevitable doom. He argued with his mind to not attempt a daring escape back to the tower, believing being Tranquil wasn't as bad as everyone assumed.

_Maybe a life of oppression is the only way… At least I was safe, if I kept my head down. No wonder no one ever offered me this! By the Maker, I would have run and hid right then and there!_

_Oh yes Dorian, heroic indeed. Soon enough many a lady will swoon and fall at your mighty feet! Oh, Hero of Ferelden!_

Stepping off the boat, Dorian took in the view. The docks hadn't changed in all those years. He felt like he was five once again. Mentally, he was as scared as a small child. He could feel his knees buckle.

Duncan paid for the horse and carriage. A tall man greeted him, he had reddish hair and a long beard. He spoke in a strange accent Dorian had never heard before.

"Who's the lad?" the man pointed at Dorian and smiled cheerfully.

"Ah, this my friend is Dorian Amell of the Circle of Magi. He will be joining us to Ostagar. Dorian, this is Angus, he is a fellow Grey Warden." Dorian slightly bowed, as he felt was customary. The boy had no idea how to greet people of authority.

"Ha-ha! I like this one Duncan, boy's got some respect! Needna' bother though Laddy. Soon enough we shall be blood brothers! He's a bit scrawny for a Warden though, yer sure he can handle himself?"

"Fastest record of a Harrowing, First Enchanters personal apprentice, youngest mage known to have greater skills than most in the Circle. Fought more demons than you and I have ever considered. I'm sure he will be fine." Duncan shot a reassuring smile at Dorian.

Once the pleasantries were through, they boarded the caravan. Dorian had never seen horses up close before. He gently petted both before boarding. Duncan and Angus rode at the front, Dorian sat under the canvas roof. He was told they would reach Ostagar within a few days. They would only stop by nightfall, mostly to let the horses rest. Within the first hour, Dorian wished they would stop sooner. He was beginning to feel severely ill.

"See Duncan, this is why yer don't recruit tower kids. They haven't the stomach for travel."

"Sorry, I'm just… adjusting…" Dorian spluttered out, trying to hold his stomach in place.

"You do not need to apologize, Angus is just mocking."

As the time passed, he seemed to grow used to the swaying motion. Eventually they stopped to make camp. Duncan went off to scout the area, leaving Angus alone with the recruit. Angus was easy going, he didn't seem angry or severe. His appearance was a little unnerving, as he was the size of an ogre. But he had a gentle face, hidden behind the fox living on his chin.

"So, Laddy, why are yee here?"

"Sorry?"

"Don't be sorry Lad, why are yer here? Why do yer want to be a Grey Warden?"

"I… don't… to be honest…" thinking he surely would be scolded at, Dorian flinched slightly. The big man simply placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, I see. I have a similar tale, no doubt. I didna' want to be a Grey Warden. I had no choice. Me and Duncan, we go way back. We were conscripted together."

"Conscripted?"

"It's when a Grey Warden claims right to take someone into custody. Conscript them into being a Grey Warden."

"Oh, I see." He recalled this was how Duncan saved his life.

"I was a wee lad, maybe younger than yer are. Me family owned a large farm outside of Denerim. I grew up in Starkhaven though, a land far away from Ferelden, that's why I have a muddy accent. Anyway. Many years we lived on that farm. It was a happy life. I miss it…" the big man looked as though he was about to cry.

Dorian unsure what to do, sat motionless. He could barely express himself, so he found it unsettling that a stranger would be so open with him.

"Anyway, when I was a bit older, me father suggested I join the army. I thought that seemed pretty good. And so I tried to. But it wasn't that easy, in order to afford an enrolment into the king's army, I had to work several jobs in Denerim. One of my jobs was being a worker in the market place. I helped run an Orlesian woman's store. I hated the hag, she was grouchy and rude. One day, I thought I would teach her a lesson. She had just ripped off a young lady for a shabby pair of silken shoes. Charged the poor girl more than they were worth. When the woman wasn't looking, I snatched her coin purse and returned it to the young girl. Unfortunately, I was neither a swift nor agile thief." Angus burst out laughing at the memory. "I couldn't outrun the guards, so I clobbered 'em. Luckily for me, a Grey Warden was in the town that day. He saw my skills, and conscripted me, much to me bosses distress. And here I am…"

The big man suddenly burst in a thunderous laugh, a joke Dorian was unfamiliar with. "Funny how they always seem to be there at the right place at exactly the right time, wonder how they do it."

Dorian nodded, thanking the man for sharing with him. Even though he felt awkward, he enjoyed knowing that little more about this stranger. He was curious to know all he could. He spent his life with the same people, the same faces each day, the same histories, the same secrets. Nothing was private or hidden in the Circle. To meet someone he knew nothing about, who could be making his life up, it intrigued him. He had to take his word that what he said was the truth.

"Did this happen, for Duncan as well?"

"Hmm? Oh, not really. But, his story isn't mine to tell Laddy. I would say ask him, but he don't really share much. You can ask, but he probably just say it is a story for another time. He is a private man, Duncan. So, what's yer story Lad? Or are yee like Duncan, too private to share?" He winked at Dorian.

Dorian feeling as though it only fair, would share his story. But only the parts he was willing to.

"I was to be killed, for aiding a blood mage's escape…" he spoke mater-of-fact like.

Angus looked at the young mage, completely shocked at what he heard. It was apparent even outside the Circle, this was not okay.

"And did yee?"

"At the time, I did not think he was." He paused. "He was my friend. He claimed he wanted to be free, to marry the girl he was in love with. The girl was a Chantry sister." Angus's face widened, the scandal continued.

"Bleeding hell Laddy, what was going through yer mind?"

"I did not want to see my friend killed, or the girl. I don't know why I did it, I just did."

Dorian tried to remember exactly what was going through his mind. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was risky, yet he did it. He even had a chance to own up to Irving, but he didn't. He was a fool, this cost him everything. Well, what he assumed was everything.

"So what happened, to yer friend?"

"We destroyed his falactory..."

"Falactor-what?" Angus looked confused. Dorian remembered this was not a fellow mage.

"It is a flask of blood, taken from us when we arrive at the Circle. It can aid Templars in finding us, should we ever escape. After we destroyed it, they went to leave, but were captured. Someone alerted them we had broken into the storage quarters. The Templars claimed him to be a bloodmage, and the Knight Commander accused me as well. I surrendered… but my friend escaped… using blood magic. I was left to pay for his crime, and my own."

His already quiet voice trailed off, it was not a pleasant memory. He saw Jowan's face. A man he knew, trusted. He looked into Dorian's eyes and lied. Betrayed him. He betrayed every magic born child alive, by giving in to the corruption. The sad fact was, Dorian knew he wasn't telling him everything, he just trusted him.

"Ah, so Duncan intervened. Good man. Yee shouldna' have paid for someone else's demons."

The man spoke sincerely, he believed Dorian's innocence. This took him aback, his glare shot up to meet the man's gentle eyes. Dorian did not expect that, he knew what he did was beyond forgivable. Yet this man did not bat an eyelash of disgust, he even believed it to be an honorable deed.

"But I…"

"A great man can do what the world believes right, but a greater man will do what he _knows_ is right…"

These words stung Dorian. Such wisdom, and yet it seemed overly naive. Mages cannot be trusted. Or so he was raised to believe.

"But we…"

"Whatever yee think yee did wrong, doesn't matter anymore. Yer no longer a part of that world, instead yee are a part of the bigger picture. The difference between what is right and what others think is right. Let go of your regrets. Any means, in order to defeat the Blight. What yer gotta do now Laddy, is make up for it all by helping me comrades at Ostagar."

Dorian took a moment to embrace what the man said to him. It seemed too much, Dorian was barely a man. He knew little of the world as it was, and he was to maintain an invisible balance. Intriguing though it was, it added to his fear.

_Wait… what did he say?_

"You will not be there?" Dorian almost shouted, he was not liking the idea of the man escaping the doom he was to face.

"Sadly no. Duncan wants me to head to Orlais. We have fellow Wardens stationed over there. Good chance the pompous snobs won'ta lift a finger, but Duncan is the boss." He chuckled lightly. "Now off you go, must keep yer strength up. Soon you'll be at Ostagar. And soon enough, a fellow Warden! Hoorah!" he lifted his dagger as he cheered. Dorian trembled like a mouse before a cat.

_Oh, easy for him to be in jolly high spirits! I'm the one off to be eaten by Maker knows what! Damnation… I miss the library._

_Ever brave Dorian…. Ever brave…._

Dorian nodded. It was past his usual resting time, though he would probably find it hard to sleep. It was his first night away from the Circle. The area seemed beyond noisy. Retiring to his tent, he laid out his possessions. Changing into more breathing clothes he counted what little money he left with. Two sovereigns, they would not last. Reaching into his pack he found his leather bound personal Tome. A fine book, a gift from Irving. Inside were a few pages of spells and recipes for potions. They would indeed be useful. Sighing, he took his quill and ink pouch out of his satchel and began writing. There were many pages spare, thinking it wise he would use the book as a way to recount events that would proceed on his journeys. Perhaps one day looking back and finding information useful.

_Or as a good way to say good bye to the world while you're being devoured by a Bronto._

_You are a pleasant fellow aren't you…?_

_When one is faced with certain doom, one tends to loose optimism._

_Touché. _

After recording in accurate detail the events of his Harrowing, Jowan's blighted betrayal, and Duncan's timely intervention he took a moment to remember what Angus told him. On a fresh page he wrote his words in bold lettering;

"_A great man can do what the world believes right, but a greater man will do what he __**knows**__ is right…"_

Perhaps one day they would make sense to Dorian, until then he would never forget them. Yawning he laced the bound once more and packed his things. Then retiring to his bed roll he attempted to drift off, much to his disdain.

He could hear Angus snoring, Duncan whistling some tune instead of sleeping, and the wind was even too loud for Dorian's liking. He missed the tower, and its safety and silence. But more so, he was terrified. He was scared of what was to come when the sun rose. So far, the only Grey Warden's he had seen were strong, brave men, dedicating their lives to save the world. Dorian would never make a good hero. He spent his life reading about them, wishing his life was an adventure like theirs. But now he had a chance to make that happen, he would have preferred a life time of reading in a secluded library.

_You got what you wanted as a boy, now relish in it._

_I'm no hero… that's obvious..._

That night he dreamt of terrible things. The Fade opened, and called sweet things to Dorian. Demons attempted to summon him. In particular, demons of desire and pride. The temptation was there, they offered what he wanted. The quiet, the safety. The books and peace. The desire temptresses purred seductively the promises he wanted so badly. But he knew they were empty lies. Then pride demons would speak to him. They promised courage, strength. A chance to be the hero he wanted. To have women throw themselves at him, to be the man he saw in Duncan and Angus. To make everyone worship his heroics. He never even acknowledged them, filthy lies that would cost more than what they were worth.

Like First Enchanter Irving always taught him, he didn't need a demon to accomplish impossible feats. He always waved off that idea, what could a jittery mage like Dorian accomplish. But Irving always swore he saw greatness in the boy, promise and hope. He missed Irving. Even though he believed his words no more than flattery to help him gain confidence, he enjoyed the fibs.

...

The morning came, and Dorian barely slept. He felt horrid. Using what healing skills he had, he attempted to soothe his headache. It worked, but took time. He would need to remain focused and practice his skills regularly, otherwise he would become useless. If he wanted to survive, he needed to remain powerful with his mage skills.

"How did you sleep?" Duncan boomed pleasantly, adding to the ringing in Dorian's ears.

"Oh, alright." He lied with a weak smile.

"Good, we will be leaving once you have eaten. Angus made some food, it's by the fire."

Dorian nodded and headed over.

Angus was munching on a large piece of meat, beef presumably. Dorian noticed a bowl of grey stew, it did not look appeasing. Living in the Circle, he would mostly eat fresh food, grown and handpicked fruit and vegetables. One of his hobbies was growing the herbs and spices for the meals. This muck looked long dead and lacking of taste. Knowing good manners and gratitude, he thanked his companion and began eating away. It wasn't as nice as he would have hoped, but it was food.

"Eat up Lad, yee won't get fine cooking like that at Ostagar. Not if Duncan lets Alistair cook, boy couldn't boil a cabbage. Good Lad though, yer'll like him." With that Angus got up and threw his bone at a nearby tree. He seemed pleased it smashed and scattered everywhere.

"Are you ready to leave Angus?" Duncan asked his friend. Angus nodded.

"Aye. I'd best head off now. I need to make a stop at Highever on the way, grab the recruits yee wanted me to. Then off to bleeding Orlais. The land of fine wines and stinky cheeses."

"It is necessary, friend."

"Yeah, I know. Just wish I could be there to help bust some Hurlock brains, like when we were younger!"

"I will make sure to kill extra!" Duncan laughed, Dorian studied the interaction closely. He found it interesting.

"You bloody better! Take care friend."

"Maker watch over you Angus."

"May he watch over us all…" their pleasantries became sullen. Bowing to his comrade in arms, he then turned to Dorian. "I'll be sure to keep an ear out about yee Laddy. I expect great things about yee. Always remember what we spoke about, yee hear? And take care." His eyes grew serious.

"Farewell Angus, it was nice to have met you."

Angus became friendly once more, and slapped a hand across the boys back as he passed him. Dorian chocked for a second, he did not expect that.

With that Angus mounted the second horse and rode off. Leaving Duncan and Dorian, sitting alone. Duncan breathed heavily for a moment, deep in thought, then began to pack camp up. He readied the last horse and waited for Dorian to climb aboard. Dorian grabbed his things as quickly as possible, then followed the Warden.

For the remainder of the journey, all was quiet. Dorian and Duncan did not speak. Duncan occasionally sung to himself. But apart from that, silence. He wanted to speak to him, get to know his lead. But was to shy and uncertain to so much a whimper his gratitude for saving him in the tower.

_There will be time later. Just leave him to his thoughts. _

...

Days of silent travel passed, when finally they reached a rubble of a wall. The land was in ruins, covered everywhere in wild woods. Overgrown, and dangerous. The land appeared harsh and cold, he looked on into the distance and thought he spied a wolf. Blinking to clear his vision, the beast was gone. A possible illusion due to lack of sleep. Within a moment he gained his bearings. He knew where he was now, the legendary Korcari Wilds. This was the ruins of Ostagar. His destination.

"We have arrived." Duncan spoke formerly. He had been awaiting this moment.

Dorian took in the sights. The ruins were of a large wall, a fortress. Surely they would be protected from any enemy within. That lifted the mages spirits, he would be safe from harm. Duncan's tone seemed to answer that silent hope, and banished it.

"The king's men have arrived already. Good." Harsh and calculating.

"Why would the king send all his armies?" he thought it seemed foolish to have him send all his men, in case they were to all fall.

_You really are a pleasant blighter aren't you?_

"The king's forces have clashed with the darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall."

Dorian could feel the air between them tense. Icy and harsh, like Duncan had suddenly become. The reality of the situation was begging to hit Dorian. This was as serious as he feared.

The two marched on foot over to the bridge, leaving caravan and horse behind. Dorian carried his pack and staff, Duncan needed only his sword. Dorian could not help but take in the beauty of the wilds. They seemed to spread on and on, never to end. The sky blanketing over it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. It was truly a sight. Given a different time, Dorian would have been overjoyed to be outside in the fresh air. Maybe taken time to make notes on different plants, or sketched the different trees. His thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"Ho there, Duncan!" this voice startled Dorian, he looked up to see a tall man wearing golden armor march to the gates.

His hair was as golden as his armor. He carried a magnificent sword and shield. Face young and fair, sun touched and yet undamaged. It was clear this man had never seen a battle before. And yet, his confidence would inspire a whole army. He was the perfect image of a hero, just as Dorian had read about. Proud, handsome, golden armor and mighty weapon. Dorian had assumed rather close to the fact of who this man was. Duncan bowed, this was the King of Ferelden.

"King Cailan? I didn't expect…" the King took his hand, as if old friends. Dorian half bowed, feeling it appropriate.

"A royal welcome? I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!" the man smiled greatly, as if they were meeting for a party.

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty." Duncan spoke humbly.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!" Dorian noticed how proud the king appeared, over confident. It must have been customary for the king to be so. "The other Wardens told me you've found a promising recruit. I take it this is he?" the king looked over to Dorian, smiling as he did so.

Dorian stared back, unsure what to do or say. He had never met many people he did not already know, and now he was to address a king. He assumed he looked the absolute fool. His knees quivered. He could hear the snickering of the king's guards, even the faint words "some terrifying mage…"

"Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty." Duncan smiled lightly at the nervous recruit.

"No need to be so formal, Duncan. We'll be shedding blood together, after all. Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?" the king offered his hand.

Dorian stared at it, unsure what he should do.

"I- I- I am Do-Dorian, your Majesty." He took the kings hand and half bowed again. Duncan chuckled quietly. Cailan seemed confused by the boy's actions.

"Uh, pleased to meet you!" he smiled unsurely and released the mages hand. "The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I for one, am glad to help them." He shot Duncan a smile. "I understand you hail from the Circle of Magi. I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?"

"I… shall do my best, of course…" unsure himself if he could be of any service at all.

_As long as you don't hit the people on our side, everyone will be fine._

"Excellent! We have too few mages here, another is always welcome. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly with you in their ranks." The king bowed to Dorian. This took him aback. Never had such a gesture been made.

_Ooh look, you're already getting bows from the King. Soon you will have everyone swooning! Oh, fearless mage! _

"You are… too kind, your Majesty."

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies."

Duncan stepped forward, making his presence known once more. Dorian wished he done so sooner to avoid the uncomfortable pleasantries with the king.

"Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week."

"Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory. We've won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow will be no different."

"I didn't realize things were going so well…" not directed at anyone, Dorian spoke. Hopefully he would not be needed for long.

"I'm not even sure this is a true Blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an Archdemon."

Dorian froze. He knew all too well about that creature the king spoke of. It made his skin crawl. Hearing someone hope to see one, worried him. As if feeling the same, Duncan spoke what Dorian thought.

"Disappointed, your Majesty?"

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god! But I suppose this will have to do." The man sighed, rather dramatically.

_This man is running our country? Oh Maker, save the children! _

"I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!" with that, the king and his men marched off. Dorian stood confused, the king wanted a blood thirsty battle. This seemed foolish. The look of shock and confusion on his face must have shown, as Duncan looked rather deep in thought about it as well.

"What the king said is true. They've won several battles against the darkspawn here." Dorian was not sure if Duncan spoke to himself, or to Dorian.

"Yet you don't sound very reassured?" Dorian attempted to shake the fear from his voice.

Duncan nodded and directed his charge to follow him. They marched through the huge gateway, to the interior of the fortress.

"Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us."

_Oh good, so I will be fighting then…Hazah! _

"I know there is an Archdemon behind this. But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling…"

Again, that word was spoken so freely. There was concern, but no fear.

"Then maybe we should move quickly..." Dorian was not sure what to say to his lead, he had no experience with any battles. He felt he would be a useless ally.

"Yes. We should proceed with the ritual." The man half laughed at the nervous peep that left his recruits throat.

"What do you need me to do?"

_Lay down preferably, don't get anyone killed? Just hide under a rock maybe? Knit socks to keep the men warm? _

"Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it's time to summon the other recruits. Until then, I have other business I must attend to. You may find me at the Grey Warden tent on the other side of this bridge, should you need to."

With that, Duncan left. Dorian stood for a moment. He was completely alone. He was used to being on his own in the Circle. But here, he was not surrounded by walls, or Templars. There, he could easily escape, if he chose to. Plant a decoy, make it seem to the Wardens he died attempting to escape the Wilds. At least for a time, he would be free. But why would he want to be free? He spent his life being controlled, being told how to live. What else was there? What other life could a mage live?

Besides, he owed a debt to Duncan. Duncan saved his life, he owed him the remainder of it. If he died tomorrow, so be it. He would have died repaying his savior, and maybe proved something to those who banished him. He just prayed, it would not come to that.

Taking in a deep breath, he stepped forward. Moving slowly across the bridge, into the fortress. This was the start of his new life. A new begging. He just hoped it wouldn't reach a quick end.

_Just another day. That's all this is, you can do this. How hard can being a Grey Warden truly be anyway?_

**_Authors Notes:_**

**Chapter one, and so a hero is found... or rather the would be hero?**

**Meet Dorian Amell. Spent near his whole life in the Circle of Magi, and now thrust out into the world to help fight monsters. He is roughly 20 years old, although it cannot be certain due to lack of memory of his past life (hence the name problem). Dorian is a naturally introverted guy and has automatic fight or flight senses. Flight is generally his response to small things like interactions, and fight when he feels threatened.**

**Angus, is based off an old family friend. Growing up away from his birthplace his accent is all over the joint.**

**Anyway, this is my first fanfic on the game, so I hope people like it :)**


	2. Stranger Places

_Chapter Two- Stranger Places_

The boys mind was plagued with visions. Memories, and dreams. He was not sure what was reality, and what was the Fade tricking him. Dorian could not awake from his slumber, he was trapped in his mind. He tried to think back, far enough to know why this was happening. Why he was now captive in his own mind.

…

He remembered arriving at Ostagar with his travelling partner Duncan. Upon their arrival, with warm welcoming arms they were greeted by the proud, if somewhat naïve, King Calian. After that awkwardly friendly introduction, Duncan left Dorian to explore the camp. For a brief moment, the mage contemplated a masterful escape. He decided against that idea before he was able to truly think it through. The time he spent wandering about the camp, he felt for the first time somewhat free. Unsupervised, he walked about and meet many new and somewhat strange people. Familiar faces he found amongst the Mages and Tranquil from the Circle. The Templars, remained watchful however.

He remembered meeting Alistair, his would be guide. A tall, gentle faced man with blonde hair. He was kind enough, but seemed uncertain of Dorian being a mage. The first time they met, Alistair was having a minor argument with a Senior Enchanter. Alistair, before introducing himself properly, mock asked Dorian if he was a mage as well. Claiming it would be very awkward if that were he case. Dorian could tell things would be somewhat strained between them. It was revealed shortly after that Alistair was in fact, an ex-Templar recruit. Tension was indeed inevitable.

His memories traveled forward, to meeting the other Warden recruits. He could not quite recall their faces, but their names and voices were fresh. There was the thief Daveth, and the knight Ser Jory. Dorian was unable to get to know either of them in their short time together. He learned though that Daveth had been conscripted by Duncan, in a similar way to the Warden he met some time ago, Angus. Ser Jory seemed a noble man, whom had a wife at home heavy with child. The man boasted how he won the favor of the Warden's through skill in combat. How he wished to bestow glory upon his family. Daveth, however seemed more humbled to have been chosen, though he hid it behind resentment.

Together they traveled into the Korcari Wilds, to seek lost Warden Treaties, and to hunt darkspawn for their Joining ritual. Not much was revealed about the ritual, all that was shared was that darkspawn blood was a vital ingredient. He remembered the darkspawn. They were nothing like he could have ever imagined.

The blood and gore ran over and over in his mind. His first taste of battle, and he nearly fled. Entering the Wilds they wandered on, suddenly through the distance snarls and growls could be heard. Dorian, whom stood towards the front, slowly backed away. His company all drew blades and charged on valiantly. For a moment, he stood petrified. Once the creatures had been defeated, Alistair approached him. He looked down at Dorian, with kind words he made sure the mage was coping. The other men snickered at his obvious fear. Alistair seemed to ignore them, focusing on Dorian, ensuring his charge would be fine. Genuine concern hummed in his voice. Dorian merely nodded a response.

Dorian decided he would gather the beast's blood, since he was the only one with the skills to collect it without damaging it. Once collected, they moved on. He recalled gathering herbs for the kennel master, to save a dying war hound he met. He seemed drawn to help the beast, and being a herbalist he knew exactly what to look for. Then, his memories grew hazy. More battles flashed in his mind. Red and black, was all his mind could function to show. Then, something visible appeared.

A woman, with black hair and bright eyes appeared before his memories. Her eyes, yellow and unnatural. Closer to animal than woman. He couldn't help but stare, they were similar to his own eyes brightness. Her voice was sultry and dangerous, when she spoke it was closer to purring than speech. It was like the whisper of a demon. She was a mage, that much was obvious. The others threw insults, accusations, and caution. Dorian just gazed at her, drawn to her eyes. She noticed his stare. She did not wish to address the others, only Dorian. He believed it might have been because he too suffered the curse of magic. Kindred spirits, maybe. Regardless, the two spoke and he learned where to find the treaties.

He jolted forward in time, to the ritual. Gathered around a fire, Duncan spoke few words. But what he spoke of sent a cold chill down all the men's spines. Not everyone survives the rituals. In order to live, each would partake a drink from the chalice, they were to drink darkspawn blood. The blood, would decide the recruits fate. It would taint their bodies, and their souls. The other recruits failed the Joining, much to Dorian's surprise. Those men were brave and strong, what he thought a Warden should be. Daveth, though a scoundrel, braved the first drink. Though his intentions pure, he did not survive. The taint poisoned him, dried his blood. He died writhing in agony. Dorian stared in horror, as the man shook violently. His skin turned grey, then partially redden. His eyes burned, his pupils vanished, melted in the murky colour of the man's eyes. Duncan and Alistair, stood mournfully. Ser Jory gasped, and Dorian froze. He couldn't look away, he was trapped in the sight.

Ser Jory was to follow. Though a knight trained for battle to be brave and strong, he cowered. Panicked that he would leave his wife a widow, and that he wanted to see his child. He gave many reasons to live, claiming this all to be evil, there was no honor in this kind of death. No glory. Begging Duncan to let him leave, he pulled a blade on the Warden. He backed away, attempting an escape. Duncan approached him, Jory swung the sword. He, did not see that Duncan had also drawn his blade. And so, Ser Jory fell.

Dorian was the last to drink. He felt his legs shake, his body tremble. Both the men before him seemed worthy to survive, he knew he would surely die. But if he resisted, he would die undoubtedly. He had no choice. That is why Duncan saved his life, even if Dorian was to lose it not long after. He had to drink. He knew there would be sacrifices, a chance he would die in battle. He didn't predict a death like this. It truly was barbaric. He grasped the chalice, and stared into the murky liquid. It even smelled like death, sour. Saying his silent farewell to the world, he took a drink. As soon the blood touched his lips, he felt the burn. He felt the urge to spit it out, but chocking on the taste his body lurched and twitched. Unintentionally, he swallowed his mouthful.

His body fell to the ground, silently he called out in pain. The blood burned and seethed his insides. He clawed at his throat, scratched at his lips. Spitting and gasping he felt his pulse quicken. He could feel his heart beat violently against his ribs. The blood running through his veins burned, he swore they had burst from his skin. He wanted to scream, beg for a merciful death. He didn't have the power, no matter how hard he tried nothing came out. He believed then he was dying, nothing could feel this horrid, and then survive it. Instead, he fainted from the pain. He felt the darkness.

Flashes of fire and darkness plagued his mind, he heard something calling him. A voice, it spoke in a dead tongue, whispering things Dorian could not understand. Something inside him, wanted to listen. It was no demon, demons were easy to banish from the mind, but this voice never left. Whatever beckoned him was something far more sinister, an ancient evil. Something beyond this world, lost and hate filled. It was tainted.

It was the Archdemon, the ancient God spoke to Dorian through the taint in his blood. Finally, he was able to suppress the voice and break free.

Much to Duncan and Alistair's relief, Dorian had survived. The only recruit to last the Joining. The least likely recruit, was the only one worthy enough to become a Warden. Dorian, was now a Grey Warden, till the day he died. He belonged to the cause, by duty and by blood.

Alistair and Dorian were assigned their mission for the upcoming battle. They were to light the beacon to sound for reinforcements. Dorian was fine with this mission, he would not get in the way. Even though he survived, he still feared battle and death.

He remembered the ensuring battle. What was meant to be more an errand than a mission, became a blood-fest. Darkspawn had broken through the fort, they were overpowering the tower. In order to reach the beacon, they were to fight hordes of darkspawn. Strangely, Dorian did not freeze. Though his mind screamed for him to flee and hide, something in his blood urged to attack. He believed this to be a reaction to the taint, the thrill of battle against darkspawn. Even though his body wanted to take charge, he ordered it to stay behind. Instead of taking the front line, he hung back casting spells at the enemy. It seemed safer and smarter than attempting close range combat. That, was all he could remember.

…

His mind returned to the present. He struggled to break free from his sleep, shaking and twitching. He could feel cooled hands press against his burning forehead. They were bony, and yet soft. He could not see who it was. Desperately he wanted to shout to have them removed, nothing left his breath. He tried to pry his eyes open, free himself. Instead he was forced to listen to the voices around him.

"He is fine, he is merely resting. Tis no need for worry, your friend will awaken, soon enough." Dorian remembered this voice. Something about the woman's voice seemed very familiar.

"He has been out for so long, are you sure he is okay?" he knew this voice, it was his fellow Grey Warden Alistair.

"Yes! Stop pestering me, go speak to Mother! Let me work!" the voice hissed. Dorian could hear a door slam.

He was thankful for it, the noise allowed his body to jerk awake. Dorian startled, rose up gingerly. His body was covered in sweat. Strands of his black hair clung stickily to his brow. He tried to clear his vision, his eyes adjusting to the light. He could barely see the figure standing over him.

"Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased."

Dorian blinked back the light. He could finally make out who was speaking to him. It was the woman, the one he remembered in his sleep. The mage from the Wilds.

"I-I remember you. The girl from the Wilds…" he croaked out.

"I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. And we are in the Wilds, where I am bandaging your wounds."

Dorian looked down to see his robes were missing, all he wore were his smalls. Reaching over to the blanket he covered himself, embarrassed that this woman he barely met had seen more than he was willing to share. She smirked, clearly amused by his modesty.

"You are welcome, by the way. How does your memory fare? Do you remember Mother's rescue?"

Dorian could barely remember the battle, and now he awoke almost naked in a stranger's bed.

_This is not what I expected. Not at all… though, under a different circumstance… Oh shush!_

"Wait… what happened to the army? To the king?" he recalled being successful in lighting the beacon.

"The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned, were massacred. Your friend… he is not taking it well."

Shocked and confused, he did not understand what this woman was saying to him. It seemed too simple, the beacon was lit, and they were to charge. Dorian had followed his orders, everything went as planned.

"What happened to the Grey Wardens? And the King?" Dorian knew Duncan would have saved everyone, he did not understand why she spoke harshly of the outcome.

"All dead. Your friend has veered between denial and grief since Mother told him."

Dorian thought about Duncan. The man who saved his life, and he was not there to try and repay the favor. He froze, he did not know if it was appropriate to grieve his previous lead. He knew nothing of the man. Regardless, he gave a silent prayer for his savior.

"He is outside by the fire. Mother asked to see you when you awoke."

"Were my injuries severe?" Dorian peaked under the blanket. He was still wearing some bandages. He could see slight scaring and burn marks, nothing overly impressive.

"Yes, but I expect you shall be fine. The darkspawn did nothing Mother could not heal."

"Thank you for helping me, Morrigan." Dorian smiled faintly at his nursemaid. The woman was taken aback by his kindness.

"I- you are welcome. Though mother did most of the work, I am no healer…" she seemed uncomfortable by accepting Dorian's kindness.

"I have some questions, if you don't mind me asking?"

_Well, one question in particular… _

"Not at all, take your time." Morrigan leaned herself against a wall, casually awaiting to be bombarded with pointless enquiries.

"Why did your mother save us?" He was very interested as to what either of them could gain by rescuing two young Grey Wardens, one barely able to call himself that.

"I wonder at that myself. But she tells me nothing, perhaps you were the only ones she could reach. I would have rescued your king. A king would be worth a higher ransom." She did not laugh, she was being genuine.

"Much, much higher." Dorian agreed with her, a scrawny mage wasn't worth much. Alive anyway.

"What a sensible attitude. Mother is seldom sensible, however."

Dorian began asking how she was able to save them, apparently the witch had taken flight as a giant bird. An intriguing thought, Dorian heard legends of such magic. He sensed the mage woman was getting annoyed by his presence, he did not want to outlast his welcome.

"I think, I have asked enough questions."

"I agree, tis time you speak with Mother, then be on your way."

With that, the witch turned and went to the kitchen. He quickly dressed himself, finding all his belongings beside the bed, he gathered them and left the hut. Outside by the fire stood Alistair, as Morrigan had said he would be. He was talking with an elderly woman with long grey hair covering most of her face. The woman was withered, hunched over slightly. The perfect image of what one would call a 'hag'. Despite this, there was a beauty in her golden eyes. An eternal youth. The same youthful light, which Morrigan shared.

"See, here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man." the woman spoke in her croaky voice.

"You, you're alive. Huh, I thought you were dead for sure!" Alistair seemed genuinely concerned. Dorian had barley known him well enough for that, but he guessed Alistair saw Dorian as all he had left now.

The young man seemed highly fond of Duncan and the Warden's. Now, Dorian was all that remained of this great and noble organization.

_Such a legacy…_

"I'm not, thanks to Morrigan's mother." Dorian smiled at both his companion and to the woman.

"This, this doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower..." Alistair's voice cracked slightly.

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad." She spoke gently, but it was easy to sense her annoyance.

"I- I didn't mean… but what do we call you? You never told us your name." the tall man fumbled.

"Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasid folk call me Flemeth, I suppose it will do."

Dorian knew who she was now. That name was a legend, placed in many books and stories. A scary tale told to young girls and boys to behave themselves. The tale of Flemeth, the ancient Witch of The Wilds. Young men were told never to enter her woods, or she would capture them, seduce them, and then devour their souls. Dorian shivered, thinking moments ago he had barely any clothes on. He quickly banished that thought.

_I am a mage, and far from a child. I do not believe silly folk tales. _

"The Flemeth? From the legends? Daveth was right… You're the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?"

Alistair took a step back hand on blade, even he knew the tales. Unlike Dorian though, was not capable of detaching myth from fact. He was also not a fellow mage, it was easy for him not to understand. Being an ex-Templar, surely his instincts to kill were overpowering.

_Typical mage killer. Smite now, contemplate a peaceful solution later…_

"And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well. Hasn't it?" she spoke calmly, clearly expecting this reaction.

"I suppose, we should thank you…" Dorian was grateful for her help, regardless of what she was.

"If you know what is good for you, I suppose you should." The old woman chuckled back.

"Is there some way we can repay you?" Dorian offered, ignoring the terrified look Alistair flashed him. He clearly assumed Dorian was offering something more than gold. A childish assumption.

"All that I wish you to do is what you are meant to do! It has always been the Wardens duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

"The land is hardly united, thanks to Loghain…" Dorian spoke more to himself than the others

"That doesn't make any sense…Why would he do it?" Alistair did the same.

"Now that, is a good question. Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can out maneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it, is the true threat" her gaze was dark, she stared into Dorian's eyes. Clearly sensing his fear.

He stared back, feeling the bright yellow glare engulf him. It was overly unnatural, somehow venomous. He assumed it was his imagination talking.

_You have overly blue eyes, are they presumed toxic?_

_Nothing about me is alarming, these mages on the other hand…_

"The Archdemon…" Alistair spoke the word with such severity. His words broke Dorian from his thoughts, he remembered the voice calling to him. Commanding something, an army. They all knew what was at stake.

"We need to contact the rest of the Grey Wardens!" Dorian almost screeched in his panicky tone.

"Calian already summoned them. They'll come if they can, but… I expect Loghain has taken steps to stop them. We must assume they won't arrive in time."

Dorian thought of the large Grey Warden he traveled with, Angus. Did that mean he was lost to them as well? He tried not to think about it, he felt a strange connection with that man more than Duncan. He recalled his words of confidence towards the boy. He truly felt lost, both his guides were now gone.

"Will you help us fight this Blight, Flemeth?" Dorian tried to mask the desperation in his voice, things seemed more hopeless as the conversation progressed.

"Me? I am just an old woman who lives in the Wilds. I know nothing of Blights and darkspawn."

"Well whatever Loghain's insanity, he obviously thinks the darkspawn horde are a minor threat. We must warn everyone this isn't the case!" Alistair began pacing back and forth, trying hard to focus.

"And who will believe you? Unless you think to convince this Loghain of his mistake?" Flemeth scoffed.

"He just betrayed his own king! If Arl Eamon knew what he did at Ostagar he would be the first to call for his execution!"

Alistair flailed his arms angrily. This was not getting them anyway, Dorian tried to remain collected.

"You think the Arl would believe us over the Teryn?"

"I suppose… Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar, he still has all his men. And he was Cailan's uncle. I know him, he's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet." Suddenly he clapped his hands together. "Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal for help!"

This seemed like a rather pointless feet, in Dorian's mind. This was one man, army or no army. Loghain wasn't the threat in his opinion, the Archdemon was. No doubt, they would need more than one lord's support.

"What about those treaties Flemeth gave us?" Dorian recalled the parchments in his pack, the ones Duncan sent them to retrieve.

"Of course! The Treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help us during the Blight!"

Alistair seemed overjoyed, as if the solution was that easy. Dorian did not share his enthusiasm, and Flemeth continued to study the young mages reactions. She clearly did not take the other Warden seriously. Dorian was beginning to do the same, the senior Warden was not acting how he believed a leader should.

"I may be old but elves, dwarves, mages… This Arl Eamon and who knows who else, this sounds like an army to me…"

Alistair ignored the woman's words, he was miles away. He approached Dorian, a look of hope across his face.

"So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places, build an army?" the look on his face was almost laughable, as if everything was achieved with the snap of Dorian's fingers.

"Whoa! Let's not get ahead of ourselves…" Dorian still could not see a glimmer of light.

Both Flemeth and Alistair looked to him, apparently expecting some sort of command of confidence. He was no leader, and now people were looking to him for guidance. He had hoped Alistair being a senior Grey Warden in comparison would take charge. But it was clear, this man had less a clue than Dorian.

_Now that, is saying something…_

"Take it one step at a time, but it is not so bad to know where those steps will lead you, yes?" Flemeth continued to stare at the boy, it was extremely unnerving. Her piercing glare was not helping with his initial panicking edge, buried just below the surface.

"It has always been the Grey Wardens duty to stand against the Blight. And right now, we're the Grey Wardens…" Alistair's tone was pleading, pleading his companion to see reason.

"So you are set then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Flemeth questioned, not breaking her stare.

Dorian sighed. He looked around, hoping to find an escape route. Non obvious enough for him. He looked at the old witch, his brow pulled in and his lips tightened. She had won.

"As ready... as I'll ever be…"

…

Finally, Dorian and his companions arrived to their destination. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he stretched his legs and leaned against a tree.

He took in the sight of the small village of Lothering. The houses were run down, and placed closely together. People ran about panicking, rushing to their homes and gossiping amongst each other. They feared the Blight upon their doorsteps, and with good reason. Dorian sighed as he looked at his map. The closest place from there was the Brecillian Forest, the last known camping site of a clan of Dalish Elves. He would take a few days travel, and they desperately needed supplies. He knew a great many things about the elves who dwelled in the forest, even some phrases. Many elves whom inhabited the tower were in fact once Dalish, but had been taken from their families by Templars. With his knowledge of the People and their culture, he believed it would be easy to appease their Keeper. The Dalish demanded respect, he would be more than happy to oblige. Magic was respected amongst the Dalish, even though Dorian was in fact a 'shem', his gift of magic would give him a slight advantage. It also seemed a closer task, Alistair insisted on travelling straight to Redcliffe. Without proper equipment to make the journey, Dorian decided Lothering would be the best place to start.

_Listen to you, oh fearless leader. Organizing and decision making, Irving would be pleased for your initiative._

He listened with annoyance as his two companions argued with each other. He regretted letting Flemeth talk him into bringing Morrigan with them. She claimed he required to repay their debt for her rescue, and this was the price. He thought it a wise idea, she seemed resourceful and knew her way out of the Korcari Wilds. Also being a fellow mage, she would be useful with spells and healing. But she and Alistair had not stopped arguing for near an hour. They bickered over seemingly childish things. Morrigan being an apostate, a 'wild mage' as he called her. And Alistair for being a rejected Templar, a job for any mindless being and he had failed. On and on, the bickering did not end.

_Five sovereigns they end up sleeping together, or murdering one and another. Either way, I might get some silence. _

At least his latest companion could not speak. He looked down at the large hound sitting by his side, panting happily. He smiled fondly, he often wanted a pet dog growing up, and now he had one. Living in the tower, the only animal he ever got familiar with was the mouser cat. A large, greedy thing, he wasn't very friendly. Some nights it would steal his biscuits as he read in the library. He wasn't fond of that creature, would have enjoyed feeding the beast to his new war hound.

"You know, you still have to name him?"

"Sorry?" Dorian turned to Alistair.

"Mabari's are smart, if you name him he will understand what it means."

"I was just going to call him dog. That is what he is after all… seems degrading to name him, he does not belong to me." The dog licked Dorian's feet, clearly admiring him already.

"You can't just call him dog! How would you feel if people called us all human? Or I suppose you would be mage. I mean, everyone calls Morrigan witch, how do you think she feels?" Alistair began laughing, thinking he was terribly clever.

Morrigan began a small sarcastic laugh, she lifted her head towards them. Dorian hadn't noticed she was perched halfway up a tree. She mentioned something about seeing the view, he did not take it so literal.

"Oh, I do not find it degrading. Tis what I am, after all. But, perhaps you are a better example of how offensive it can be. People call you fool often, do they not? Or moron? There are many a name I'm sure you own."

Once again, the two began arguing. Dorian sighed and looked down at the dog, smiling at him. He tried recalling any good names he had ever read. He didn't want to name him something degrading, he needed something proud. The dog was largely built, with a thick torso and head. He had a stumpy little tail, which batted back and forth happily. His jaw was huge, and it hung open slightly as he panted, mouth filled with sharp teeth. He needed something unique, just as he was. Something the Mabari would be happy to answer to. He seemed such a spirited animal after all.

"That's it. How do you like, Spirit?" Dorian asked the dog, hoping for a response. The Mabari barked and wagged his tail. "Then so it shall be. The Mage and his Spirit Hound. Our legend begins." He chuckled at how silly it sounded, the Mabari seemed to like the idea as he barked and wagged his tail.

The group wandered through the village. Asking questions, and helping where they could. Many of the people were too afraid to speak to them, they speculated the group either deserters or apostates. Often, a Templar or two would stare at Dorian. He knew it was obvious to everyone what he was, and this worried him. He remembered what the raider had said on the bridge, Grey Wardens were being hunted for treason. This meant he could no longer hide behind that title, it was either a traitor or an Apostate mage. Either way his fate was already set. He needed to remain unnoticeable, which would be a near impossible feat when two of his companions were constantly breaking into debates.

Dorian chose to leave them to their bickering, he wandered off with Spirit in toe. Walking aimlessly past the village boarders, he took in the sights. Never before in his life did he feel as free as he did then, not even at Ostagar. Standing in that open field, he closed his eyes and breathed heavily, letting the air fill him.

It wasn't long before that feeling of peace vanished once more. In the distance he could faintly hear shouting and screaming. They seemed to be coming from behind the local windmill, curious he approached the noises. As he walked, he noticed a large cage outside the village boarders. Looking into the cage, he noticed a strange being. A large man, and yet it was apparent this creature was not a man. The color of his skin was deep grey, with a tinge of brown. His hair was a strong shade of white, and atop his forehead a strange scaled frill was placed. They looked like horns. His eyes were a deep radiant purple, and were permanently frozen in a frown. The creature appeared to be meditating, peaceful. Dorian approached the cage and spied the sign hanging from the top. Murderer, was all it read. The creature snarled at Dorian, his eyes remained shut but he could sense the mages presence. The timid mage slowly backed away, then continued his original investigation.

Crouching behind a willow tree, Dorian attempted to see clearly what was happening. Beside the windmill, a family of elves were being interrogated by a group of twenty or so large men dressed in strange armor with foreign shields. They didn't seem like bandits or thieves, but something wasn't right. Spirit growled lightly as he watched with his master. Slowly, Dorian creeped further. The closer he got, the easier it was to hear the men speak.

"You recon we'll get a good price for this lot? Bit small aint they? Especially the male." One of the men kicked dirt towards the cowering family.

"These knife ears will get us enough. Can't be picky 'round 'ere. We'll sell this one into labor, and the little one to a warehouse, and the woman…"

All at once the men began laughing, waving their blades towards the elves threateningly. The father tried to shield his child and wife from the men, clearly scared, he tried to be strong for them.

"Please, let them go, take me alone. I won't fight, I promise to go quietly…" The elf begged.

"Filthy knife ear! Don't speak to me!"

With that, the leader of the group smashed the small elf's head with the pummel of his sword. The man fell to the ground heavily, the noise his body made as it collided with the earth was sickening. Thump. The wife screamed in shock as her husband fell.

Attempting to remain calm, Dorian rose to take battle. He knew these elves needed help, despite the risk his own life was in. He had sworn to protect the innocent, as hopeless and cliché as his oath seemed. Shaking, he readied his hands and prepared to cast a fireball at the group. But, before he was given the chance, the ground began to shake and tremble. The men lost footing and fell, as they did several shocks of lighting whizzed towards them. Their bodies twitched and squirmed in agony, but they did not stay down.

Dorian stunned, turned to see who caused such an attack. He half expected it to be Morrigan coming to his aid, this was not the case. Standing not far from the scene, were two young women. The younger of the two, crouched on the ground, hands placed to the earth, the other was running at full charge towards the men. As she ran, her hands twirled in rhythmic motions, flinging ice and lightning with each step. It was too much for the slavers to handle, before she reached them already half the company had fallen. The remainder, she sliced near in half with her staff. Dorian couldn't help but notice it, he had never seen an enchanter's staff with a blade infused on the end.

The younger woman ran up to aid her companion, but seeing she was more than capable resorted to helping the elves. Dorian watched in awe as the woman single handedly took down each man. She used combinations of spell casting and what appeared to be sword play. She was fast, the men far to disorientated by the first attack to even defend themselves. Finally, the leader was all that remained.

Slowly, the woman strutted over to the man. He lay on the ground, gasping and clinging to himself for life. Blood was squirting from his mouth, one of the lightning bolts fried his insides. Steam was visibly eroding from his ears. Dorian held back his gaging sensation. Sneering, the woman lifted the dying man up by the brim of his chest piece. He gaged and gasped, chocking on blood. For a mage, she was incredibly strong.

"You know what we do to slavers around here…?"

A sinister smirk crossed her face, her eyes narrowed. The man tried to wiggle out of her grip, his legs were giving out on him. He began floundering on his own breath.

"Please… I'll pay you…. Just…"

"Just what? Let you live? So you can prey on the next family you see? Is that what you want?" she began laughing, mocking her victim. "I don't think so…"

"Mage… bitch!"

The slaver spat blood in the woman's face. Instead of wiping it from her, the woman did not break her focus on the man's eyes. His outburst did not make her falter. Dorian, still locked frozen in his half crouch stared intently at the woman. With a swift flick of her staff, she had impaled the man. Pulling her staff from his body, she allowed blood to splatter everywhere. Removing her hand, she left the man to wobble on his own for a brief moment. With a final gasp, his body slumped to the ground with a heavy thud.

The woman stepped back, wiping her face on her sleeve she mumbled something inaudible. She then resorted to spit on his body, a final demonstration of hate. With that, she turned to help assist her friend in barely keeping the elven man alive.

Dorian rose up, finally able to unlock his legs. Never before had he seen mages like that, mages so confident in fighting and in general. He had met mages who lived beyond his tower, Morrigan and Flemeth were apostates, but they hid in the forest away from the Templars eyes. These two woman lived openly, they lived in a village for all to see. They wielded the arts so carefree, as if unafraid or unaware how dangerous it was. He approached them cautiously.

His dog followed, keeping close tabs on his master, growling quietly. As Dorian grew nearer he could see the woman closely, they were in fact younger than he had imagined. The younger of the two, was attempting to heal the elf male, she chanted to herself and pressed her hands firmly above the man's wound, circulating them. His wife and daughter were crying desperately into each other, they had already given up. The eldest crouched close to her companion, whispering something. Dorian assumed she too was chanting spells, or perhaps prayers. He drew nearer and the woman was soon alerted of their company. Snapping her head up, their eyes met. Raising herself and reading her staff all in one swift motion, she was prepared to take Dorian on. The other sister looked up slightly, while remaining focused on the task at hand. She noticed Dorian's staff and gasped.

"Wait, he is a mage…"her voice was barely heard, so soft and dainty.

"I do not care if he is the Maker incarnation! He takes a step closer, he will join these bastards!"

Unlike the younger companion, this woman's voice was not gentle. It was strong, proud and confident. Even dangerous. Dorian raised his hands, declaring himself not a threat.

"I mean no harm…" he half smiled, trying to seem less dangerous.

_Honestly, I couldn't be less dangerous if I wore only my small clothes! This mage could have me roasted in a second and I need to look less threatening? _

"I do not care what you mean, stranger! If you know what's good for you, back away now!"

She pointed her staff towards him, ready to strike. He remained calm and kept walking at a steady pace, certain his legs would soon fail on him once more. He prayed she would not electrocute him. Dorian could hear following footsteps approach his back, he turned slightly to see his companions. They readied themselves to fight, sensing their leads doom. He silently instructed them to lower their weapons.

"Apostates… we should not get involved…" Alistair fail-whispered.

"Listen to him stranger, he speaks wisely!" the mage woman spat, not breaking eye contact.

"Ha! Alistair speaking wisely? Tis a most unsettling notion." Morrigan snickered to herself. "Truly Alistair, I thought different of you. You are no mage hunter, yet you condemn them. Is your role not to reframe from judgment?"

"All I'm saying, is we are being hunted already. Dorian should be fearing the Templars as well, we do not need to draw more attention than-"

"Enough, please." Dorian calmly said. "That man needs help." With his head he gestured to the near dead elf. "I can feel his soul opening the Veil, he is nearing the Fade. He is beyond one mages help. I do not doubt either of your abilities, but I have training beyond your years. Please, I wish to help him…"

The woman's eyes narrowed, she clearly took offense to the mages words. Cautiously Dorian kept walking, he dropped his staff and approached the dying elf. The mage did not take her eyes off Dorian, and his companions did not take theirs off her. As he sat beside the younger mage, he placed his hands over hers. Tensing, the older one raised her staff to strike.

"It's alright." The younger one spoke gently. The woman lowered her staff.

Dorian could feel the aura the mage had created, it was strong enough to keep the man breathing. With a deep breath, he began chanting the most efficient revival spell he knew. Allowing his powers to flow to his hands he focused his eyes on the man's breathing ribs. Counting each breath, he began to allow his mana to push harder. Draining his own energy, he passed it through his hands. The fellow mage began to follow his lead. His body began to tremble as his energy drained, but sure enough, the man's breathing began to become more frequent. Moving his hands from the wound, he hovered them over the elf's heart, commanding it to beat steady.

He could hear a loud gasp escape the groups mouths, he was unsure why that was, but was too focused to care. His eyes did not leave the man's body. Finally after moments, the elf opened his eyes with a gasp for air. The wound was sealed and his heart had calmed. Overjoyed, the family embraced one and other as Dorian sat aback. The man turned to all three of the mages, and smiled gratefully.

"I owe you my life, you saved my family and brought me back from the darkness. I will forever be in your dept."

They each humbly nodded, Dorian smiled warmly. This was the first time he was able to use his magic for true greatness. On the battlefield, he had helped heal wounded men, but they were far from death. He had pulled this man's soul from entering the Fade itself and helped save him. But he couldn't take all the credit, nor would he.

The elves quickly gathered their things and left, thanking repetitively as they did. Dorian sat peacefully for a moment, sighing he allowed his mana to rejuvenate. He was physically exhausted from that. Luckily, he kept a hearty supply of lyrium on hand. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder gently. Turning his head, he saw the elder mage standing behind him offering her hand up. He gladly took it, but she did not let it go once he was standing. In her other hand she held his staff. Puzzled, she stared at Dorian's eyes, he found it unnerving. Although, he took this moment to take in her appearance properly. She was close to the same height as Dorian.

He tried to ignore the slight blood splatter smeared across her nose. Her face had fairly gentle and somewhat attractive features, though Dorian didn't know much about what was attractive or not. She had sandy blonde hair, cut just below her ears. It was scruffy and unkempt, it reminded him of his own untamable hair. Her pointed nose crinkled up to meet her eyes, her bright green unnatural eyes. For a moment, they appeared blue, a similar shade to his own. Then all at once, the green would return.

_Must be my imagination._

"How, how did you do that?"

Startled, Dorian refocused on the fact he was standing their holding the strange and dangerous woman's hand. He looked around to all the groups faces, each had a different variation of awe and shock. He assumed they just hadn't seen that type of magic used.

"A revival spell?"

"No, not the blighted revival spell! I am a mage, I know what simple magic is. But I also know when someone is using darker magic. So I will ask you this once, was that blood magic?" her eyes narrowed.

Dorian could feel her hand tighten. His face screwed into something similar to the others, he had no idea what was going on. He had never dabbled in the forbidden arts, or even considered it. He used a spell that was taught to him by Irving himself, and he was being accused of something sinister.

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"When you brought him back to life, you gave off a very powerful aura. Something I have never felt before, like the Fade itself was at your command. Then when I looked to you… your blighted eyes were glowing!"

"My eyes… did what?"

Feeling a tight knot twist his insides, he raised his free hand and patted his eyes. He felt the same, well slightly drained. Even during the spell it all seemed normal… for a mage. At one moment, he did feel stronger, but he assumed that was the other mage's contribution.

"They did buddy, bright blue. Bluer than they normally are anyway. It was kinda creepy, in an awesome kind of way…." Alistair rambled.

"It must be a side effect of the taint mixed with your magical abilities… tis most interesting…" Morrigan seemed more curious than the others.

"Taint? As in darkspawn taint?" the younger mage spoke this time.

She stood close to her companion. Dorian looked at her for the first time properly. It became clear then that the two mage woman were sisters, her face shared the same gentle qualities as the older mage. Though she seemed softer, sweeter. Her eyes were a sugary brown, they were bright but not abnormally. Apart from the eyes, the two could have been twin born. Her hair though, was as black as Dorian's, and it hung perfectly around her shoulders. She was slightly shorter than her elder sister.

"How very interesting…" the older sister quietly spoke, while releasing Dorian's hand. She then handed him his staff, with a curious smile. She seemed more friendly when the snarl had left her face. "I am told the taint has something to do with Grey Wardens. Perhaps the rumors could be true?"

"Ah, we wouldn't know anything about Grey Wardens… we are just trying to pass through without trouble…" Alistair defensively stuttered. The sisters both seemed to laugh lightly.

"Don't worry, your business is your own." The woman said with a wink. "Forgive my lack of manors, but we are in rough times. One minute we have bandits, another smuggling traders, then slavers…" with that she shot a fierce look at the dead men close by. "As if it's not enough, bleeding darkspawn want some of the action as well."

"It's hard to trust anyone, even fellow apostates." The younger one said with a kind smile.

"As our dear brother says, _don't assume unless you're an ass_." The elder mages eyes seemed to flash a lighter shade once more, the blue tone more noticeable.

_That cannot be my imagination. I have never heard of that trait in mages… interesting. _

Dorian was enjoying the lighter nature of the mages, they seemed like people he would be happy to stay near. Even though, he was far from the social type, something about them made him feel at ease. Somehow, connected to them.

"Well, we'd better be on our way. Last thing we need is idiot Templars sniffing around thanks to this pretty scene." She shrugged with a wide grin. "Friendly advice, I'd clear out if I were you. The simpletons around here are starting to get airy about you and your friends. They claim your friend is a Chasid witch… love the superiority complex of the local famers…" she flashed a wink to Morrigan, who oddly enough smiled back in approval.

"Oh, I like this girl. Perhaps we should offer for them to join us? They have proven capable enough." Morrigan said eagerly.

"Ooooh no, we have enough illegal mages for now. Thank you."

Alistair and Morrigan began another glare off, Dorian ignored both of them. He was taken in by these curious apostate women.

"Thanks, for the offer." The mage half laughed. "But I have to get my family out of here. The Blight is near, it's not safe in Ferelden anymore."

"You know about the Blight?" Dorian knew this was not common knowledge, nor accepted info.

"Our brother was at the fall of Ostagar, he is one of the few survivors. He says only two other men made it out with him… they are no longer with us." She scratched her neck awkwardly, uncomfortable with the topic change. This was a trait Dorian was accustomed to. "We are unsure whether any others made it."

Something about her stance changed, it seemed to mimic Dorian's. Nervously, he too began to rub his neck. He silently chuckled at the odd similarities. Hair, eyes, odd mannerisms.

_In another life, you two could have been twin born… complete opposite twins, what with her having a spine._

"Do you know where we can get some supplies?" He asked also wanting a topic change.

"Well, apart from the smuggler ripping people off, I'd say go to Dane's Refuge. Fellow inside will help you out."

Dorian nodded, he had so many things he wanted to ask them but found it hard to articulate. It seemed a near impossible life. And what he also assumed would be a dangerous and highly lonely one. At least the sisters had each other, and apparently a comedic brother. He was honestly a little jealous.

"Well, sorry stranger but we should probably leave. Our mother will be waiting for us. I didn't catch your name though?" she smiled.

"Dorian." He returned the friendly smile.

"Names Hawke… Uh, Jade Hawke." She half laughed, Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, inside joke." The younger sister giggled. "I'm Bethany." She smiled.

"Ah yes, family jokes. Got to love them, right?" the elder mage, Jade Hawke shrugged.

That was the final blow, he was not slightly jealous anymore. He was heartbroken. Dorian felt a stab to his heart, a stab he had never thought existed. He thought of his mother, something he had not done in a long time. He never cared for her, he barely knew her or his father. What little memories he had, were filled with acceptance. Acceptance they happened and he should move on. He suppressed memories because he believed them unimportant, now he knew they were too painful to think about. His family, had abandoned him. Something these mages never had to face. They had each other, a brother and even a mother, Dorian assumed a father was involved as well. He felt a shudder of hate fill his fists, at first for the women but then for his own life. He didn't understand why this couldn't have been his family.

Their whole family gave up so much in order to give them a normal life, a free life. They loved them enough to sacrifice so much to protect them from the Templars. Even Morrigan, who resented her mother, was raised by her own flesh and blood. So far all the free mages seemed to have better lives than him. Difficult, but surely better. The world of the Circle was all he knew, all he was content with. He let out a sigh at his own thoughts, another time he would reflect further. He desperately wished he too had family secrets to share with someone…

"I wish you and your family safe travel." Dorian said with a halfhearted smile. The mages in return smiled graciously.

"Thank you for helping that man, not many would be kind to an elf, or an Apostate for that matter. I can tell you are a Circle Mage, yet you do not condemn us. I thank you, for not threatening our way of life." The elder mage extended her hand in friendship, Dorian accepted. "Take care, Dorian. If we are to ever meet again, I would be glad to call you a friend."

Dorian smiled to both the sisters, the younger one, Bethany, smiled back and waved slightly.

"Maker watch over you…" Dorian repeated the words Duncan said to his friend before he left. The eldest sister, Jade nodded, but it was her sister who answered.

"And may he watch over you, friend."

With that, the sisters ran off. Dorian looked after them, wishing he was a part of their strong family. He wondered how his life would have been if he was their brother. He envied them, with a burning passion. Maybe, if he was born in their family, he too would have been strong and brave.

_Going to have to learn that one on your own, I'm afraid…_

"Let's go…"

With that, the four of them headed back into the village. They were all unlikely comrades, but would need to work together. Dorian just hoped he would meet more people willing to help along the way, such a small group, the odds seemed against them.

**Authors Notes:**

**Thought I would try and cover a heck of a lot of events through memories. They are vital to the story, but not enough to get whole chapter. The point isn't to give complete recounts of events in the game, just bits and pieces. Those who are followers of the game are aware what happens, so I don't need to go thoroughly into detail.**

**Sten: I wanted to portray the Qunari how they are in the second and third game, since the grey seems to be how Bioware are going from now on. Sten is hornless, but like all Qunari he has the plates above his eyes. If you mod him to look like the second game Qunari, he will not have horns, just the plates.**

**Side note= I always wanted to have Amell meet his cousins. (Even though they are unaware of their connection or destiny) So cue the random cameo- my first Hawke character F!Mage.**


	3. Unlikey Allies

_Chapter three: Unlikely Allies _

Inside the tavern a large gathering of men in heavy chainmail stood by the owner. The presumable leader of the gathering was threatening the frightened man, brandishing his blade close to the owners face. Alarmed and desperate, he pointed towards Dorian and his party as they walked through the door. The leader turned, releasing the man. He signaled his men, and they followed him to _greet_ Dorian.

"Well, look what we have here men! I think we've just been blessed!" the man was rather large, he had huge armor and a sword almost as tall as Dorian himself. He scratched his beard, smiling at Dorian.

The mage was forced to look up in order to make eye contact. He could already feel his knees shaking, he had to try and remain calm. He already feared the men saw him as less than a threat.

"Uh-oh. Loghain's men. This can't be good…" Alistair slowly reached for his blade, ready at the first sign of an attack. He stepped closer to Dorian, reassuring the small man he had his back.

One of the smaller soldier's stepped forward, studying Dorian. Looking down, his upper lip curled predatorily.

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about a man by this description? And everyone said they hadn't seen him?"

"It seems we were lied to…" the leader began twirling his blade menacingly, Dorian gulped.

Before the men had a chance to attack, out stepped a woman. Surprisingly, she stood between the two groups, placing herself firmly in harm's way. She was dressed in what appeared to be a Chantry robe. She stepped in front of Dorian, he was unable to see her face, only a good view of the short thick strands of fiery red hair hanging loosely. She smelled like a fresh garden, he tried not to obviously sniff her, but he would have been lying if he said he didn't enjoy the smell. Reminded him of his previous life.

He found this intervention very concerning, since the woman was slightly smaller than he was. Dorian began to stress, he didn't want an innocent Cloister sister sacrificing herself to help him. Not when his companions already were prepared to help, and were heavily armed and ready. She spoke, in a presumably foreign accent. He had heard this accent only once, one of the elder mages had a similar one. It was recognizably Orlesian.

"Gentlemen surely, there's no need for trouble? These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge." Her voice was gentle, and yet persuasive. The men were not falling for it though.

"They're more than that!" the leader growled, raising his sword to the woman's face. "Now stay out of our way sister! You protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them!"

Seeing this made something snap inside the mages mind. Living a life in the Circle, he had seen his fair share of intimations ending badly. Templars liked to take things too far. Seeing this sort of behavior all his life, he was through tolerating it. Dorian stepped out from behind her, gently taking her waist and brushing her aside. He was not allowing anyone to die for him.

"What makes you think we are traitors?" he wanted to reason with them, before things became out of hand, he kept his voice calm but he could feel something fowl growling in his chest. The sister responded.

"Teryn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king, or haven't you heard?"

Hearing her words, Dorian looked to her to respond. But, he was very surprised by what he saw. She was not what he would have thought a sister of the Chantry would look like. Sure, several of the sisters in the Circle were young and pretty. But this woman, was not pretty. Her face was gentle, milky colored and she had full lips. Her cheeks were rosy and appeared to glow. He noticed her eyes, a gentle blue, like a clear sky. They appeared to look through him, this made shivers form along his spine. She had a stern look about her, serious and sincere. Her eyes were troubled, conflicted. He couldn't help but stare at her, and he wasn't sure why. This sister was not pretty, she was beautiful. The sister cleared her throat awkwardly and her eyes darted to the men and back to Dorian. This snapped him out of his strange infatuation.

He went to speak, wanting a peaceful resolution between the men. These men were not aware of the whole story, but they didn't seem to care either.

"Enough talk! Take the Warden into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets in your way!"

With that, Dorian swung his staff over his shoulders, casting a shot of fire as he did so. Signaling his team into battle. This was the first time he had started a fight, and didn't cower away from the challenge. With his movements, the tavern went silent and cleared well away from the insuring fight. Scurrying in fear, witnessing the violent flames spread from the mages hands.

Spirit leaped onto the closest soldier, blocking them from reaching his lead. Alistair charged forward, barreling several men over. Morrigan stayed back, unleashing a dark cloud of confusion on as many men as she could, they stumbled about bewildered. This allowed Dorian to set them each ablaze, protecting Morrigan from being ambushed. He was attempting to shelter as many innocents as possible, one of which appeared to be helping them. The sister who was willing to defend them, was now joining in on the battle. With a small sword as her weapon, she dashed towards the men. She did not fight clumsily either, like Dorian expected a Chantry woman would handle this situation. Instead she leaped and swung her blade about with ease, slashing as many men as she could. It looked less like fighting, and more like dancing.

Soon enough, only one remained, the leader. Dorian approached him, ready to strike. Before he could, the man cowered and begged mercy.

"All right, you've won! We surrender!"

Dorian could once again feel the snarl growing in his chest, rising to his throat. Something about the battle sparked a fury hidden inside the usually calm mage. Perhaps an influence of his previous encounter with Apostate mages, or the fiery inspiration from the sister. Or maybe, something more sinister.

"Good. They've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now." The sister said calmly. The tavern began to return to its previous merry-making state, as if nothing ever happened. The bar keep grumbled about cleaning up so much blood and maybe alerting Templars.

Dorian could hear Morrigan snort at the woman's comment. She clearly enjoyed herself. Dorian stepped toward the soldier, his blood boiling. A rage he could not understand was consuming him. Normally he would have let the man go, he would not have even considered a fight, but something was drawing him to anger.

_Do it! Prove to everyone you are not a coward! Prove to them why mages should be feared! Prove that you are dangerous! Like any other mage! _

… _Prove them right, that you should be locked away…_

His minds reasoning made him pause, the rage subsided for a brief moment. He calmed himself, enough to speak reason. He was not like these cowards, he would not become a murderer.

"The Grey Wardens didn't betray Cailan, Loghain did." He snarled, Alistair stepped forward offering support.

"I was there! The teryn pulled us out of a trap!" the soldier was so sure what he said was truth.

"The teryn left the king to die!" Dorian unleashed his snarl, startling both the sister and Alistair.

"The Wardens lead the king to his death! The teryn could do nothing!" the man shouted, shaking his head in disbelief.

Alistair stepped forward, sword in hand. Dorian signaled him to stay put, Alistair obeyed. Hearing the man's attempt to logic what caused the massacre, made Dorian pity him. In the same circumstance, perhaps he would believe as well.

"Take a message to Loghain." He stifled his growling urge.

"W-what do you want to tell him?"

"He'll pay for what he's done… We're coming for him…We will stop this Blight, one way or another."

Once again, his anger inside had taken over. He could feel his body shake in rage. He stared at the man, but it was not through his own eyes. It was as if Dorian had lost control over his body. Alistair stared at him, worried and awe stricken by what he was seeing. Both the soldier and the sister gasped, Dorian assumed his eyes were glowing again. He silently hoped they weren't.

"I'll tell him. Right away… th-thank you!" with that, the man scurried off as fast as his legs could carry him.

Dorian took a deep breath and composed himself. He placed his head in hand and shook it slightly, attempting to gain control over himself once more. He would need to find some way to get used to his new found 'talents'. Blood lust, was not something he would want to get used to. The sister stepped forward, no longer afraid. Rather, she seemed somewhat curious.

"I apologize for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help…" she smiled weakly at Dorian. Lifting his head he attempted a smile, but failed. He was trying to remain composed. He did not want to lose himself once more.

"So I see. Where does a sister learn to fight like that?" Dorian was downright curious. It seemed so strange. The topic change also helped to soothe the burn inside his throat.

"I wasn't born in a Chantry, you know. Many of us had more… colourful lives before we joined. Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering. Or, I was."

"I am Dorian… A pleasure." He nodded politely and smiled kindly. His anger seemed to vanish.

"They said you are a Grey Warden. I'm surprised you are a mage, but I'm sure the Circle of Magi must want the Blight defeated as well."

Dorian flinched at her statement. Another person who would only see him as that, nothing more. It was obvious he was a mage, considering he just roasted several men and lit up like a lamp light. But still, to hear it be stated so bluntly was a little disheartening.

"I know after what happened, you'll need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." She smiled at Dorian. Breaking from his chain of thought, he looked at the woman. She seemed very sure that no matter what she was joining them, it seemed she could also handle herself in a fight.

"I will need help, that's true…" he pondered the thought, Morrigan snorted behind him.

"That and the Maker wants me to go with you." The sister spoke proudly.

All at once, the group stared wide eyed at the woman. Morrigan then shook her head muttering something, and Alistair tried to burry a laugh. Dorian just stared, somewhat speechless.

_Sweet flaming sword… what have I gotten myself into?_

"Can you… elaborate?" Dorian was a man of faith, or was raised to be. But he never believed the Maker ever to be on his side. He was born a curse, after all. Nor did he believe the Maker would take the time to directly speak to someone.

"I- I know that sounds, absolutely insane… but it's true! I had a dream… a vision…"

"More crazy? I thought we were full up?" Alistair glanced towards Morrigan. She glared at him.

The others were starting to lose composure. Dorian ignored them. He knew this seemed far-fetched, and maybe she was crazy, but who was he to judge on someone's sleep habits. He knew all too well that dreams were more than an imagination running wild, perhaps something was at work. Though he doubted the Maker.

"Look at the people here. They are lost in their despair, and this darkness, this chaos… will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Makers work." She looked to Dorian, ignoring the others attempting to not laugh at her. "Let me help."

She looked into Dorian's eyes, pleading. He could see her desperation, her faith. She truly believed what she said, it was rather awe inspiring. Dorian sighed, it was well known he could be a push over. As his friend Jowan knew all too well.

_You are going to regret this, you know that don't you?_

_Ah yes, because bringing along the angry swamp witch was a tactical move? Or the complaining senior Warden, who by the way gave you that cushy job? _

_Well at least they helped save your life… and so did this woman. Ahhhh, Fine. _

"Very well… I will not turn away help, when it is offered…" he smiled halfheartedly.

"Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought." Morrigan sneered. He had to resist glaring at his companion.

"Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I will not let you down!" Leliana held her hand out, smiling gratefully.

Reluctantly, Dorian took it. Her hand was very soft, gentle. The apostate, Jade Hawke wore gauntlets, so he did not have to touch her skin. Skin on skin interaction was always strange feeling. He looked from the hands to her eyes, feeling a nervous redness spread his cheeks. She simply smiled and released her grip. Gathering her pack, she smiled at the party and headed out the tavern door.

Dorian shaking his head sighed and turned to his team, both had looks of concern. Morrigan was more angered though, it easy to see she did not approve of the sister joining them. Alistair looked more amused than worried.

"You sure this is wise? I mean she is a Chantry sister after all? And seems a bit, well… odd?"

"Because the rest of us are perfect?" Dorian calmly asked, looking to the ground in front of his companions. "Look… I don't want to be in charge. But if you insist that I lead us, you need to support me… I'm not used to this, any of it. Being put on the spot, I need to make a decision fast. She may be helpful, I cannot turn away help when it is offered. Stand by me, that's all I ask."

Alistair nodded, Morrigan huffed. Dorian smiled coyly, impressed how easily he made them sway. It would take time to get used to making all the decisions. He hoped it would get easier.

_Don't let it all go to your head. Just because you handled a fight, successfully made a large man wet himself, and looked like a big tough guy in front an attractive sister… where was I going with this?_

He couldn't help but grin like a drunken dwarf. He was feeling rather pleased with himself.

…

The group left Lothering, and ventured north looking for a camp ground clearing. Dorian could feel his migraine dancing vigorously around his head. He severely wanted to create distance between himself and his travelling group.

Alistair and Morrigan bickered away, Dorian did not even bother to notice what they argued over. Presumably a Templar-Mage debate, occasionally one would try to bring him into the heated discussion. One would claim he is either a bad example of the argument, or a good one, either way he cursed being a Circle Mage. He would simply walk faster, ignoring his name being called. He once again remembered his sheltered home, perhaps it was not as bad as the life he was now enduring. He was jealous of the Apostate sisters, and even Morrigan, for having freedom, but freedom seemed a very unrealistic dream at that moment. At least in the Circle he had quiet, and he had books.

Spirit barked and ran along merrily, occasionally bringing a dead creature to present to his master. Dorian didn't mind this, except often he would step on a bloodied rabbit, or trip over his hound. He enjoyed his dogs company, more than the arguing love birds, but still. It was getting a bit much.

A new member had also joined the party. The creature Dorian had spied in the cage. He now knew what this creature was, he was an infamous Qunari. A creature from far lands, an obvious enemy to the Chantry. That is the only reason he knew about the species, due to being told rather often how evil they were. He didn't seem as bad as the Mother in the Circle made them out to be, he was intimidating though, no questions asked. But was capable of following the chain of command. He learned the creatures name to be Sten, a soldier for the Qun, their form of religion. He was unsure on bringing the soldier with them, but all of his company seemed reluctant to leave him behind. He was convicted of murder, and left to be fed to the darkspawn. Even for murder, that was a fate worse than death. A cruel choice by the Chantry, perhaps an attempted morale boost for their views. The only way he was to be set free, was into Dorian's custody. Dorian now took 'ownership' for the man's actions. He would rather keep him close, in order to make sure no innocent suffered at his hands again.

He found it rather, odd, that Sten seemed to grieve over the deaths of his victims. He admitted openly of his crime, and that he had in fact waited to be taken captive. He wanted to die, in order to pay for his crime. It was his penitence that made Dorian see that perhaps at least if Sten joined them, he would find a way to repay for what he had done.

Dorian looked out of the corner of his eyes at Sten, who appeared to be staring at him rather intently as he walked. It was very unnerving.

"So, where will we be making camp?" Dorian jumped almost out of his robes, the question had not come from Sten. Breaking eye contact he turned to see Leliana walking beside him.

"Um, wherever seems safe enough…" he answered unsurely. Sten snorted and walked off ahead, unimpressed. Leliana nodded.

"You are not used to all of this, are you?" it was less a question and more an observation. Dorian scratched his neck, he felt slightly off-put by the question.

"Yeah… Circle life was rather… different." He answered, staring straight ahead. He hoped she would find that suitable and leave him be, conversations were not his forte.

"I can imagine. Do you miss it?"

Dorian began blushing, he wasn't sure why. It was a simple question, probably because he knew a simple answer would be a pain to provide.

"In a way…"

"Yes?" she pressed.

"I guess, I mean… I spent nearly my whole life in the tower. Any change is difficult. I'm not accustomed to anything…else." He tried to speak without swallowing his tongue.

"That doesn't mean you miss it." She smiled at Dorian, he only noticed by taking a brief second to look her in the corner of his eye. This was making him very uncomfortable.

Noticing the area they stumbled on seemed rather secluded, he paused to take in the scene. Using it truthfully as an excuse to ignore Leliana. It was a small clearing, surrounded by thick trees and part of a mountain side. That would give a bit of safety against attacks, the trees were far enough to hear noises but also see movement as well. He tried to strategically think of ways this area would be efficient, thankfully his knowledge in the area was vast due to reading.

_Yeah, like everything you know it but never experienced it._

_Hush. _

"We'll set camp here." He stated loud enough for the others to hear. Sten had to backtrack as he walked slightly ahead of the others, quickly he began gathering wood for a fire and started clearing tree debris with the sword Alistair gave him. Dorian appreciated the fact he did this without needing to be asked. The others began setting individual tents up, luckily the shopkeeper in the tavern had several ready to be bought. Dorian noticed Morrigan set hers closest to the mountain, far away from the others.

"Too good to sleep with the commoners…" Alistair grumbled. Dorian rolled his eyes.

Seemed to him like an attractive idea, least he would be left alone. But it also seemed highly unsafe, and might have been perceived rude of their leader to ignore the others. He sighed, all this social interaction seemed too complicated.

Finally, the others tents were put up. Alistair had left with Sten to scope the scenery, Morrigan, well she was being Morrigan and stayed well away from everyone else. Spirit chewed blissfully on a stick, and Leliana finished readying the meal she volunteered to cook. Dorian was building the fire, attempting to not use magic. And failing.

"Would that not be easier if you just… you know?" Leliana asked as she stood over Dorian holding the cauldron with what smelled like fresh vegetable stew. He noticed she was now wearing a pale yellow frock, shapelier than the Cloister gown. Dorian felt redness spreading to his ears, he tried not to stare.

"Yeah, it would. But…"

"But?" she pressed.

_That is rather annoying, why can't she leave me alone like the others?_

_Don't be rude, you're a curious person as well._

_Bah!_

Sighing, Dorian stood up. Holding out one hand, he clicked his fingers and a small amount of fire flicked and hovered over his hand. Leliana stared, rather intrigued. With a gentle wave the flame engulfed the wood. Dorian turned and sat on the mat he placed nearby and studied the flames. Leliana continued to look at him, her face still curious. Dorian scratched his neck, she was waiting.

"Just trying to be… normal… I guess."

Leliana smiled gently, then she placed the cauldron over the fire base. Then, oddly, she sat not far from Dorian. He had noticed after laying his mat down Leliana had placed her tent rather close to it, much to his annoyance. He had contemplated setting his own tent up, away from hers, but decided that night he would sleep under the stars. Something he always dreamed.

"Why would you want to be anything than who you are?"

"Glad to know it is obvious I am not normal…" Dorian grumbled as he crossed his arms over his knees. Leliana laughed lightly.

"I didn't want it to sound rude or insulting. It is a compliment. We are all unique, the Maker made us such. The Maker gave you the gift of magic, I think he would want you to use it."

Dorian, somewhat stunned looked over to Leliana. She was playing with the strings on her instrument, he found it odd she carried a lute with her.

"Magic is to serve man, not rule over it. Or in most cases, to not be used at all. I wouldn't call what I am a gift, nor would I expect a sister of the Chantry to smile upon the abomination of magic. Did my people not offer Andraste to the flame?" Dorian tried to mask his anger at the mention of the profits name.

"I am not as closed minded as other Chantry members, you will also recall I am a Lay Sister. Meaning I am not bound to the Chantry, I believe the words of the Maker and his profit, but I do not have to agree with all of it." She paused and glanced up to meet Dorian's eyes. "Or condone the injustice being created by misinterpretations. I am also flawed, like anyone else, who am I to place blame or judgment on others?"

"Hm, you are one in a million…" Dorian muttered and couldn't help but stare at Leliana.

"The Maker loves all his creations, I doubt he would have created you the way you are if he did not have a purpose. Despite what some believe. It was greed for power that doomed Andraste to the flames, magic was only a tool. "

Dorian nodded, he wanted to debate that idea but thought it was not wise. Barely knowing his new ally, he didn't want to burn bridges. Nor did he want to carry on like Alistair and Morrigan. But, he was a rather curious man, always had a knack for asking too many questions during lessons.

_Don't do it… Don't do it… Don't…_

"Um, I have a question…" he began.

_Damn it man!_

"Well, here I am." Leliana gestured dramatically, indicating to ask away.

"About this vision of yours…" Dorian barley audibly spluttered out.

Leliana shook her head and sighed. Dorian almost took back what he said, but she seemed willing to talk.

"I knew this would come up sooner or later," she began. "I don't know how to explain, but I had a dream…" she broke eye contact as she attempted to articulate her thoughts. "In it there was an impeccable darkness… it was so dense, so real." She stared off, a slight shiver could be seen run over her. "There was a noise, a terrible, ungodly noise…"

Dorian's brow pulled in, he pondered if it was possible she heard demons… or one in particular.

"I stood on a peak and watched as the darkness consumed everything…and when the storm swallowed the last of the sun's light, I…" she looked up to meet Dorian's gaze, her eyes were clouded over in fear. "I fell, and the darkness drew me in…"

"You dreamt of the Blight?" Dorian recalled the similar images plaguing him after his Joining.

"I suppose I did. That was what the darkness was, no?" she rubbed her eyes. "When I woke, I went to the Chantry garden, as I always do." Dorian couldn't help but smile at that statement, Leliana noticed and half frowned at the gesture unsure why he did so.

_That's why she smells nice…_

_Aw look at that, something in common. Talk to her about weeding. _

_Buggar off!_

"But that day, the rosebush in the corner had flowered… Everyone knew that bush was dead. It was grey and twisted and gnarled- the ugliest thing you ever saw. But, there it was—a single, beautiful rose…" her eyes lit up as she remembered the beauty.

Dorian could see the sight clearly in his mind, he found it interesting how easily her words painted an image.

"It was as though the Maker stretched out his hand to say, 'Even in the midst of the darkness, there is hope and beauty. Have faith…" her words were honest, she truly believed.

"And this, made you want to help me?"

"In my dream, I fell, or… or maybe I jumped… I'd do anything to stop the Blight." Dorian's eyes widened.

_Maybe she should be in charge…_

She locked eyes with Dorian, her brow pulled in and a half smile crossed her face. A look of determination.

"I know that we can do it. There are so many good things in the Maker's world. How can I sit by while the Blight devours… everything?"

"The Chantry says the Maker has left us…" Dorian bitterly muttered, breaking the spell Leliana's words casted. She sighed, sensing his distrust in her beliefs.

"He is still here, I can feel him in the wind and the waves. I feel him in the sunlight that warms my skin. I know what the Chantry says about the Maker, and what should I believe? What I feel in my heart, or what others tells me?" she smiled gently, Dorian couldn't help but nod.

"Believe what feels right to you, Leliana…" he smiled back at her, he was slightly understanding what she saw in her beliefs. It was a far-fetched idea, but at least there was comfort in it.

"Thank you. It's nice to find someone who agrees." Her eyes widened at Dorian's comment, she could tell he was suspicious, but was open-minded nonetheless. "I know what I know, and no one will ever make that untrue.

For a moment the two went quiet as they looked into the fire. The sun was beginning to set, Dorian assumed the others would return soon enough. He sighed, taking in the view. It was not often the mages were allowed outside, he didn't get to see the sky turn orange much.

_Maybe, this isn't so bad after all…_

"I have a question for _you_." Leliana finally spoke up, making Dorian jump from his thoughts.

"Um, yeah?" he stuttered while glancing over his shoulder.

"You are rather jumpy aren't you…" she giggled to herself, Dorian wasn't sure if that was the question. "Even when you stood up to those soldiers, you seemed rather…twitchy. Uncertain, nervous." She smiled. "You don't seem the type to be on adventures saving the world, if you don't mind me saying so. How did you end up here?"

Dorian took a large swallow as he attempted to gain control of his ability of speech. She had practically insulted him, but said it gently as if it was nothing to be ashamed off. He was quickly disliking her, for her honesty and for conversation starting. But it was also, rather refreshing. So in a way, he was liking her honesty and her for that matter.

_How can I dislike someone __**and **__like them as well?_

Regardless, he did think it would have been equally rude to ignore her. He racked his brain thinking of a simple, quick to end topic, answer. None came to mind.

"Uh, it's a… long story…"

"I have time." She smiled once again. Dorian sighed and ran his hands over his face; honesty it is.

"I was recruited not long ago from the Circle, shortly after I became a Warden, not by choice though. Due to the battle at Ostagar, the Warden's fell and Alistair and I are the only ones left in Ferelden. We were ambushed at Ostagar and nearly died as well, Morrigan and her mother rescued us and with the help of magic saved my life. Morrigan joined Alistair and I, and suggested travelling to Lothering. Spirit found me, after I helped cure him of poisoning from Darkspawn, and then we reached the town. Some other stuff happened, and here we are…" he rambled nervously recounting events and giving the 'short' version. He played with a loose thread on his robes sleeve. Leliana nodded along.

"That doesn't answer my question completely, I didn't mean literally here, I meant as a Warden away from the Circle. You don't seem the type of mage who purposely searches' for trouble. More like the kind who enjoys the finer things."

Dorian could tell she was being genuine, but her words hurt no less. Finer things felt like a polite term for 'being useless'. Her honest way of putting things was like a gentle slap to the face for him. He knew he wasn't cut out for this, and it wasn't reassuring how completely obvious this fact was.

"Uhhh…" he muttered awkwardly. His tongue seemed to want to break free from his jaw.

_Maker, strike me down now! Or make her buggar off! Please!_

"Please, I spoke to you about my vision. I am willing to share anything with you, it is good to trust those whom you travel with." She smiled again, Dorian was certain her voice was designed to seem soothing. It was unnerving.

"I um, am not proud…" he began. "Of what happened. I helped a blood mage to escape the tower…" he lowered his eyes, even still he could see the intrigue light in Leliana's.

"Why did you do that?" it wasn't spoken with judgment, just curiosity.

"He was… I trusted him. He swore he wasn't a blood mage. It is common knowledge that mages go through a ritual called the Harrowing, where we must face our inner demons as well as the literal kind in the fade." He could tell this was not going to be the short answer, since his mouth began moving uncontrollably. "I passed mine, easily, as was expected… I was the First Enchanters apprentice, so he never feared… anyway, the mage in question, Jowan, had not been made to pass his Harrowing yet. He suspected they were going to…" he stopped, speaking about the right of Tranquility was not an easy topic. "Kill him, so he begged me to help him escape with the girl he planned to marry. A Chantry sister, as if mage love wasn't forbidden enough…"

Dorian stopped and rubbed his neck violently trying to stop the imaginary itch. Leliana sat and waited patiently for him to continue, she did not break eye contact, which made it harder for him to focus.

"I agreed. I don't know why, everything screamed _no don't do it_, but I did it. And stupidly, I'd probably do it all over again." He pinched the bridge on his nose. "We were caught, Jowan was accused of being a melificarum, and so was I. The charge was made, our sentence clear. I stood ashamed before my former teacher, he wouldn't look at me. I betrayed all of them. Jowan, fearing his life and the life of the sister, used blood magic. Casting on the Templars and First Enchanter, he planned to escape. The sister refused, she had no idea just as I, what he was. She chose her fate. Jowan, fled the scene. I had a chance to escape as well, but I chose to remain … and face my punishment…"

He paused and exhaled a large amount. Recounting these events to the Warden Angus felt different, that he was obliged to tell him. Being seen as an authority figure to Dorian. But with Leliana, he was being very vulnerable sharing this with her, he expected the fear of what happened to sink in soon enough. And once it did she would think him a monster as well.

"Luckily, Duncan a senior Warden was visiting the Circle. He claimed my deeds honorable, helping a friend despite odds, and standing to face the punishment for not only my actions but Jowan's as well. He forced the Knight Commander to hand me over… he saved me…"

"He was right." Leliana spoke mater-of-factly.

"Pardon?" Dorian nearly chocked on his own tongue.

"You didn't know what he was, you trusted a friend, and he betrayed you. You wanted to save his life, and his loves life. You even stood to face your fate, not many are brave enough to do that. It was honorable." She smiled, then rose to check on the stew boiling.

Dorian stared at the woman's back, confused. Twice, he had shared his actions and twice he was told what he did was the right thing. It threw all his beliefs out of balance, beliefs the Templars planted no less. He shook his head trying to think straight, he had been outside the Circle for only a few days and already his mind ached with confusion.

Leliana turned and smiled, or rather grinned. Dorian stared up at her, confusion still his adamant emotion. She was trying not to laugh at something.

"Next question, why does your eyes glow? You seemed to, become rather angry, then your eyes were glowing blue. It is rather… intriguing?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

Dorian could feel his cheeks burning. Now that, couldn't possibly have a simple answer. Jumping to his feet, he fumbled over his words.

"I-I should go…"


	4. Added To The List

_Chapter four: Added To The List_

"Don't say that! Maker's breath Alistair, I have enough to deal with, now you throw this one at me?"

Dorian was banging his head against a tree while he ingested this new information. When Alistair asked for a moment to speak, this was far from his list of what to expect.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… alarm you…" Alistair murmured while he rubbed his neck.

"Alarmed? Me? Nonsense!" he snorted. "What is alarming about the fact that now I am plagued with not only demon whispers as I sleep, but also a bleeding Archdemon wants to join in on the action as well? Fun times indeed, I should invite them all to a slumber party!"

Dorian was no longer alert to what he said, suddenly his thoughts and voice became one. Which was probably a relief, otherwise he would not have found the courage to vocalize his anger.

"Duncan… wanted to tell you, but…"

"I get that! Like the whole drinking a goblet of pure death, it's all top secret. Hushidy hush! That is not the worst of it though, you are now informing me that there is a good chance I will die in about thirty years! Give or bloody take a few!" he turned and glared at Alistair, feeling the heat consume his face. "Anything else you might want to add?"

"Well…" Alistair began. "About your eyes…"

"Oh Maker, now what! Please tell me this creepy rubbish will wear off soon enough, I mean you don't have it so it mustn't be permanent! It's bad enough I have a target on the back of my head saying 'bloody mage, shoot me', I don't need to shine like a beacon as well!"

Alistair took a deep breath and exhaled. This was not comforting the panicked mage.

"Well, that's the thing… I have never seen this side effect before." Dorian's eyes shot daggers, Alistair fumbled over his words. "Not in person, I mean! Duncan says on occasion a mage or even a Warden with magic in their bloodline reacts like that to the taint. Like it somehow… enhances their powers, or something. It is really rare… and doesn't go away…"

Dorian felt the urge to light the man's trousers on fire, but decided that would not be wise or responsible. Instead he went back to smacking his head against the tree, grumbling. Alistair went to comfort Dorian, but quickly changed his mind. Deciding to leave him to his thoughts, he went to join Sten and Leliana by the fire.

This day had suddenly gotten even more ridiculous. After the awkward conversation Dorian had with Leliana, he went to check on the others. Sten was sharpening his blade while Alistair helped prepare supper, Morrigan was fine and wanted to be alone. Once the stew was finished the party gathered around the fire and ate in near silence, until Leliana struck up a conversation with Alistair. The two seemed to be getting along.

Not long after Dorian had dozed off while taking notes on the various plants surrounding the camp, categorizing the different herbs he spotted. He didn't remain asleep for long. Soon, the same terrible images that plague his Joining haunted him once more. The darkness, whispers and screeches. Blood, he could both see it in his mind and taste it on his tongue. He saw it, the horde. Deep beneath the ground, darkspawn gathered, preparing. There snarls filled his ears. Then, before he could wake himself, he heard it once more. The bellowing cry of the creature of nightmares, the Archdemon. Jolting up in a pool of cool sweat, he blinked rapidly and struggled to gain breaths. The group stared at him in bewilderment, Alistair attempted to calm him. Dorian was far beyond panicked to listen, he shook his head muttering it was only a dream. That was when Alistair requested he had a word with the mage, and rather abruptly informed him the dreams would be a frequent occurrence. News that would have been nicer to know sooner. After being probed for information, Alistair reluctantly shared the life expectancy of a Grey Warden. Much to Dorian's grief.

_Just another thing to add to the price I paid to be rid of the tower… Maker, it really doesn't seem that bad anymore…_

He cursed loudly and slumped to the ground, back against the tree. He could feel the reluctant sting of warm tears filling his eyes, he was finding it harder and harder to stay calm. It was not easy when something new was being thrown at him left, right and center. He tried to remain calm. The dreams was something he would learn to handle, but to know how long he had left to live was rather… disturbing.

Though his life would always be unexpected, dangers could end it at any moment, there would always be the certainty he would die still rather young. Thirty years, by that time he would barely have grey hairs. Sighing, he then realized he hadn't much of a life to stress over losing regardless.

"Interesting, you seem to have left a mark on the tree. Tis good to see your skull is fully intact."

Dorian's head shot up, he pushed the tears back down. He hoped none had escaped. Morrigan was standing not far from him, leaned casually on a fallen tree. A smug grin crossed her face.

"Yeah, great…" he muttered.

"If it helps, I can drop a few strands of shredded poison ivy in the oaf's next meal. Wouldn't be enough to kill him, just let him have a nice itchy throat for a few days. Would be rather laughable, would it not?"

Dorian chuckled quietly, this was her odd way of consoling him. He did wonder why she bothered though, it was clear she did not care to be here.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"I heard your tantrum, and noticed the tree being thwarted. Tis strange, for someone who seems rather flighty, you have a nasty temper. As I suspect, an effect of the taint… or perhaps years of silent resentment. No?" she raised an eyebrow, Dorian shrugged.

"Just another thing to add to the list of problems I seem to have."

"Hah, I find it insulting you consider being mage a problem. You should embrace your talents, and try and enhance your new ones. Let the power consume and flow over you."

"You didn't live in the Circle…" he grumbled.

"Tis true. I was not fortunate enough to have the Templars put oppression inside my mind. You however, have an opportunity." She crossed her arms and shook her head suppressing laughter. "It would be unwise not to seize it."

With that, she left. She seemed to glide through the woods, in a rather disturbing manor. She had informed Dorian shortly after joining them she was what they called a 'shape-changer'. He assumed she simply took another creatures form. He found that skill intriguing, but had yet to see it in action.

Lowering his head back down he tried to clear his mind. He didn't want power, especially since he could barely understand the magic he already wielded. He always felt a strong connection to the fade, and because of that was able to control his powers easily. But he was always willing to learn more. It was a shame he no longer had a teacher.

"Enchantment!"

Dorian jumped slightly, but didn't look up. He remembered Bodan was camped nearby, and his son Sandal was with him.

"Yes, hello Sandal. Maybe later, okay?"

Without even looking up he could sense the young dwarf was smiling down at him. He felt large hands ruffle his messed hair. He was not pleased with that gesture, but only sighed in annoyance.

"Bye-bye!" with that, the dwarf stumbled off.

Dorian couldn't help but smile. He was glad he helped save the two merchants, but was rather shocked to find they had decided to accompany them. It was convenient however, since they brought with them a nag and caravan. They also offered to supply the party with cheap products of use. Already Dorian and Morrigan raided his stock for various herbs.

Sighing, he decided to get up. Wanting to be childish once more, he opted to smack his head against the tree. This time, he felt a mild sting. At least it helped get rid of his anger. After admiring his handy work, he regretfully went to rejoin camp.

Alistair had retired to his tent, presumably to hide from Dorian's possible 'wrath'. Sten had stationed himself close to the entrance of the clearing, he recalled the Qunari decided he would stand watch. Spirit was curled beside Dorian's pack, thrashing his legs as he dreamed. Leliana was sitting by the fire, gently strumming her lute.

Dorian shuffled over to his bedroll and sat down, attempting to pry his pack from under the large hound's paws. Finally, with a great amount of effort he was able to at least remove the majority of the straps, enough to fish a clean shirt out. Trying to be inconspicuous, Dorian glanced over to see if Leliana was busy. She seemed focused on what she was doing, so he quickly pulled his robes over his head. Feeling the chilled breeze, he felt his skin prickle. His knees shivered in his brown trousers.

"That would have been easier if you made your tent, then the breeze wouldn't touch you. Nor my eyes." He could hear the smile in her voice.

Quickly he fumbled with his shirt, getting it stuck halfway over his ears. He cursed quietly, then finally succeeded. He looked over to Leliana, whose eyes were still on her instrument. He felt the heat spread from his cheeks to his ears.

_Lesson learned, next time tent goes up!_

Attempting to ignore that comment, he fumbled around his bedroll to find his journal. That day definitely needed its own chapter, or book. He began writing when he suddenly felt eyes on him once more. Glancing up he noticed Leliana was staring rather intently. His blush intensified.

_This woman is infuriating! I vote next town we leave her at the Chantry and run!_

He cleared his throat, hoping perhaps she would take the hint. She did, but her gaze did not break.

"Are you… alright?"

Dorian almost stabbed the page he was writing on with his quill. That was far from expected.

"Am I, what?" he spluttered.

"When you were sleeping, you thrashed about wildly. Sometimes you would mumble things, it was hard to make out what you were saying. I wanted to wake you, but Alistair said to let you sleep." Her eyes softened. "I just wanted to make sure you were fine…"

"Oh… um… I…" he babbled, feeling the ass for being annoyed at her. "Yes… thank you…"

She smiled and returned to her lute. Dorian reluctantly turned back to his pages. As he wrote, small droplets of watery red fell onto the pages. He looked at them, perplexed. Raising his hand to his fringe he felt the sticky clump of hair growing wetter and wetter. The sting from the attack on the innocent tree appeared to spread. His head was growing sticker, blood mixed with sweat.

"Shit." He grabbed his pack and tried to find his potions or a gauze. This was becoming difficult, he felt his stomach churn. He gulped for air and tried to keep his supper down. Breathing was becoming near impossible, and the world was moving around unnaturally.

Leliana jumped up and rushed over, in her hands was her own medical supplies. Crouching in front of Dorian, she gently raised his head, reluctantly he looked up. He met her eyes, but she was focused on the gash. His vision blurred, but he could still see her clear blue eyes. They seemed to twinkle, he blushed. Breathing had almost ceased. Gently she tried to wipe the hair from the cut, he winced. It was stuck good and proper. She tsked with annoyance.

"Perhaps next time you will leave the trees alone?" she said calmly, applying the soothing ointment. "You know, you could have used a spell. Much easier." She half smiled.

"Couldn't… blood… hard to… con…centrate…" he gasped. Having the rather attractive woman very close didn't help with his breathing either. Her eyes met with him.

"You saw blood today in the tavern, you did not react like this."

"Not… mine…"

"Ah, I see." She nodded, gently dabbing his forehead. Already he could feel the ointment working, it was both cooling and warming his face. Or perhaps the warming was due to his embarrassment. His vision was steading, but everything else failed to receive the message.

He tried to steady his breathing, but was finding it difficult. Leliana looked at him, with concern in her eyes.

"I find taking your mind off the injury helps. Think of something and we will discuss it." She smiled while she dabbed. Dorian felt his blush intensify, this close he was able to fully appreciate her lip movement. He gulped, never was in this position with someone before.

_I could think of a topic…_

_DORIAN AMELL! _

_Yeah I know… bad little mage… _

He racked his mind for a topic. Strangely, nothing came to find. He considered talking about herbalism, but thought that might have been a rather one sided topic. He needed her to talk to help distract after all. Finally he thought of something, which was not far off his imaginations request.

"What would someone like you be doing in the Lothering Chantry?" He tried to not sound rude, but it did seem an odd scenario. She looked at him for a moment, suppressing a laugh.

"What is meant by 'someone like me'?" she raised her eyebrows.

Dorian fumbled over his words, he remembered talking was the hardest task in the world to him.

"You-you know…" he rubbed his neck. "A beautiful woman…like yourself…" he mentally slapped himself as soon as the sentence came out. She didn't seem to mind though, a small grin touched her lips.

"And there are no beautiful, charming woman in the cloisters, you think? Oh you would be wrong." Her eyes focused once more on cleaning hair from Dorian's cut. "There were many lovely young initiates in the Lothering cloister-all of them chaste and virtuous." Her grin seemed to grow. "Ah, it added to their mystique. Because then… they were forbidden, and forbidden fruit is the sweeter, no?"

Dorian once again lost control of his mouth as he listened to her words. He had less than no experience with people in general, attractive women were a whole different story.

"Those initiates couldn't have been more lovely than you.." he almost physically slapped himself that time, Leliana stopped dead and stared wide eyed at the comment, rather shocked. Almost as much as Dorian himself.

"Flatterer…" smiling, she winked at Dorian. He felt his ears burn. "I, however, did not take my vows and so perhaps I am not as… enigmatic?" with another wink, she decided to try and steer away from the conversation, to save her patient from glowing even redder. "The Chantry provides succor and a safe harbor to all who seek it. I chose to stay and become affirmed."

"Affirmed?" he appreciated where the conversation lead.

"We affirm our belief in the Maker, in Andraste and the Chant, but other than that, there are no vows taken."

"So, your skills were learned before your time in the Chantry?" the conversation was helping to settle his stomach. Leliana continued to work, but paused briefly when she thought of an answer.

"I was a travelling minstrel, in Orlais. Tales and songs were my life. I preformed, and they rewarded me with applause and coin. And my skill in battle… well, you pick up different skills when you travel, yes? Yes, of course." She seemed to be completely avoiding Dorian's eye contact.

"Bu-"

"Erm, lets change the topic?"

Dorian could see in her eyes she was avoiding something serious, if her stumble of an explanation wasn't obvious enough her eyes would have given her away.

"So… you, like to garden?" he apparently resorted to the original topic choice. She chuckled at his rather failed attempt to make conversation.

"Yes, I do enjoy it. It is peaceful and allows for contemplation. Why is that?"

"I… um, I like to garden as well. Though, we called it either botany or herbalism."

"What is the difference?"

"Well," this was a topic Dorian enjoyed highly, and was happy she was allowing him to speak on it. In order to speak properly, he attempted to focus his eyes to the far right, keeping her face out of focus. "Botany is more so the study of plants, categorizing them and taking notes, when a new plant is discovered they are the ones to name it. Herbalism though, not only studies the plants, they test them in order to fully understand their potential. Often mages were forced to take a class or two, at least enough to make health potions."

"Which did you study?"

"Bit of both truthfully. Though, to label it I suppose I would have done more Herbalism in my time. Now though, I know more than needed, so I do not require testing. I prefer to simply study the plants. Did you know, that in Tevinter, there is a plant native to their dense wetlands called the 'Slaves Trap'? Called such, because once its spiked leaves feel the slightest amount of pressure, they snap together like jaws. Trapping whatever decided to land on it. Very sharp, and very toxic. Though, it was given the name because it lets of a sweet aroma. It is said it once was known to lure hungry slaves to it, then snap their fingers off once they attempted to touch it. Fascinating…"

Dorian had completely forgotten he was being patched up, he was completely engulfed in recounting the facts he found rather enjoyable. Leliana smiled as she finished up, the wound wasn't deep enough to require stiches.

"I can see you are very passionate about it."

"I had a lot of free time." He shrugged. "Once all the gardens in the greenhouse were raided, the books fed my hunger to learn more. Sadly, books tend to finish abruptly and the knowledge you learn ends with it. Especially when I know it, but can live it."

Leliana lifted her hand and studied the cut, gently brushing the now clean fringe away.

"Not too deep, this will not be your first scar luckily. Not a very heroic tale. You know, if you cut your hair once in a while, that would have been much easier." She packed her kit together.

"Yeah… it would, except the blighted stuff tends to grow faster than Orlesian Wild Vines. Never takes long to grow back, though… I am due." he huffed, blowing the loose strands away.

Leliana stood up and smiled.

"Oh, I don't know… I like men with long untamable hair." She flashed another wink. Dorian's mouth flapped uncontrollably. He probably looked like a freshly caught fish. Grinning ear to ear, Leliana retired to her tent.

Dorian stared after her, rather shocked. For the most part, aside from blurting out inappropriate comments and having her make him the shade of a cherry, he was able to speak freely. But, that was not a great feat, considering he didn't make eye contact, pretended she wasn't there, and was rambling boring facts about something she would never be interested in…

_Soooo… back to where we began?_

_Did I even leave the starting line? _

_No, probably not…_

_Joyful!_

He paused for a minute and frowned. He questioned why she helped him. No one did anything for free in his life, so he wondered what she wanted from him.

_Maybe just being nice?_

_I hardly know her well enough though…_

Laying down and pulling the covers over himself, he stared up to the stars. They twinkled and flickered. He smiled, thinking how they looked almost as if they were slow dancing. Spirit, still unconscious, wiggled over closer to his master and let out a sigh. Dorian chuckled lightly and wrapped an arm around his new friend. At least he succeeded in making an impression with the Mabari. His head felt a lot better, lifting his free hand he rested it on the cut. Very faintly he released his healing energy, just to close it completely from the night air. Sighing, he snuggled into his blanket and hound, allowing the campfire to warm them both. He wanted to enjoy it as much as possible before Sten put it out. He pondered how the Qunari would be able to stay awake all night.

Soon enough, his mind slowed. Unlike his first night away from the Circle, he was able to comfortably fall asleep.

…

"Should we wake him? Breakfast is ready…"

"No, let him rest a little longer."

Alistair and Leliana were looking over at Dorian while he lightly snored. Sten had decided to pack the camp up, he devoured his meal and wanted to get moving. Dorian was quickly feeling his sleep fading, he could faintly hear all the movements around him.

"But, Sten and Morrigan are ready…" Alistair quietly winged.

"They can be patient, the sun has barely rose. We have a way to go in order to reach the forest, regardless what time we leave. There is no need to rush. Better he is fully rested than exhausted. Mages require rest and relaxation, otherwise his mana will drain quickly." Leliana chirped, apparently she was an early morning person.

Dorian loudly grumbled, rolling onto his pillow. This discussion was irritating, especially Leliana commenting on mana usage.

"I can hear you guys… you know." He grumbled into his pillow.

"Oh sorry, hungry?" Alistair's grin was easy to hear. Another morning person.

"Uhhhh, it is too early for everyone to be happy…" Dorian groaned.

"I told you to be quieter Alistair, he hasn't had enough sleep. Mages don't have to wake up until the sun is fully up. He also didn't go to bed when he should have. His sleeping pattern is out of order."

"How do you know all that?" Alistair quizzed. Dorian wondered the same, it was rather strange knowing such random facts about Circle life.

"I once knew a mage, a dear friend. He grew up in the Circle, often he would complain when his sleep was interrupted. It was easier to know these little things, saved having to hear him repeat it all once more." Her voice was bouncy, it made Dorian's ears ring.

Groaning he buried his face deeper, attempting to let the pillow consume him. After realizing no matter what he was fully awake, he pulled his face out and turned to glare at his companions. They burst into laughter at the sight of him.

"What?" he grumbled. Alistair pointed to his hair, mid snort.

Dorian lifted his hands and felt the mattered birds nest growing out from all sides. His hair was sticking up in a crazed fashion. Grumbling he tried to smooth it down. Leliana smiled and handed Dorian some food; a large bread roll and four boiled eggs. His stomach growled at the sight. Alistair finished cackling and continued to scarf his mashed eggs and bread, and what appeared to be a rather large portion of cheese.

"I didn't know how you liked your eggs, I prefer hard boiled myself." Leliana smiled, offering cheese. Dorian accepted.

"Thank you. They are perfect, how we ate them in the tower." He practically inhaled the food, he didn't realize just how hungry he was. Normally he never ate that much, being small framed, now he might have devoured Bodan's nag if offered.

"Hungry are we?" Leliana giggled. Dorian nodded, not wanting to stop crunching the bread.

Dorian finished and downed a pint of milk, rather quickly and felt his stomach ache slightly. He wasn't sure what came over him, normally he knew table manors. He looked around to notice Leliana and Alistair were dressed and ready. Alistair in his usual chainmail, and Leliana in some new leather armor. She also sported a long bow. The others began tidying the fire pit up and packing equipment. Dorian took this opportunity to quickly change into his robes. He noticed the sleeves were slightly burnt and the material was fraying. Grumbling he rolled his sleeves up. After packing his area, he helped carry several backpacks over to Bodan's cart. Since he chose to follow them, he offered to carry their supplies.

The area was completely cleared and so the group headed off. Sten seemed to lead the group, Spirit close beside. Bodan and Sandal rode along, singing what Dorian presumed was a dwarven song. Well, Bodan sang and Sandal clapped along. Leliana smiled and whistled along to the tune. Alistair attempted to read the maps of the forest as he walked. Morrigan had long out walked the others, she told Dorian she would meet them just before nightfall camp.

Dorian walking took note of the various plants, mentally labeling each. Birchwood, Elfroot, Oak, Syrian, Bricillian Balsa, the list went on. He was in plant heaven. Suddenly, he smacked into a huge wall. Tripping over his feet from the force he fell back, but something held his arm to keep him straight. Blinking Dorian looked up, he assumed he walked absentmindedly into a tree. This was not a tree.

"Ashkost kata." Sten spoke while his hand held tightly onto Dorian.

"Uh, what sorry?" he was still bewildered by what happened.

"You are seeking death…" the Qunari spoke calmly, as he released Dorian's arm.

Dorian felt a shiver run down his spine, the words were spoken calmly so he was unsure whether this was a threat.

"Wh-what are you saying, Sten?"

"You wish to defeat the Blight, yet you cannot function. You are supposed leader of this… group." He looked to the others, his face was both disgusted and amused. "You are a child bleating without meaning. You are no leader, Bas Saarebas."

"Bas Saarebas?"

"Dangerous thing. Non-Qunari mage is also accurate. You are not dangerous by choice, but you are still Saarebas. You are lucky, the Qun demands your death. But I swore allegiance to you Bas, that deal stands. For now."

"Um, should I be concerned you wish me dead?" though it was not a surprise, most people wanted mages dead. It was also well known Qunari collared their mages, like animals.

"You seem in control of your abilities, what little you have. I am aware from my time caged, Saarebas roam freely, and Bas are none the wiser. There is also an order to controlling, your kind. If needed, you are easy to stop. You are no threat to me, though I will remain vigilant."

Dorian stared up at the large creatures features, he seemed calm. But there was something, very faint, flinching inside. It was possible he did fear Dorian.

"What does concern me, is you lead these Bas and you cannot lead yourself. You will need to prove to them you control your own mind, before you will control them. It is obvious you are powerful, yet you hide it. It is strange…" with that, Sten turned and continued walking. Dorian stared after, completely perplexed by the first conversation he shared with the Qunari.

"What was that about?" Leliana seemed to appear beside Dorian, he jumped slightly.

"I am not entirely sure, myself." He scratched his head. "Something tells me he has a problem with mages though…"

Leliana and Dorian walked on in near silence, occasionally Leliana hummed quietly. He wondered why she insisted on walking beside him, he was enjoying being on his own. He was in the middle of thinking a way to strategically move away, when he heard something in the trees close by. Stopping dead in his tracks he listened. Leliana turned and went to speak, he raised a finger to his lips. Something wasn't right.

Looking over his shoulder, he noticed Alistair was acting the same. Their eyes met, Dorian slowly reached for his staff…

Suddenly, springing from the bushes a large group of darkspawn charged towards them. Snarling and growling they swung their swords. No sooner than they appeared, the party prepared to fend off the attack. Leliana drew her bow and shot arrow after arrow, darkspawn fell head shot after another. Alistair began close combat with several Hurlock's, slashing deep with his sword. Sten and Spirit both barreled several Genlock's, trying to keep them from reaching the caravan.

No time to rationally think or feel, Dorian lit up like a beacon. His body consumed with both flames and his blue glow. He swiftly flung his staff in all directions, lighting darkspawn ablaze. They squealed in agony. Sure enough, the attack began to die off. Dorian began counting the fight as a victory, but it was all too soon. The darkspawn began resisting attacks, as if immune to any spell he casted. He could sense magic at work.

Over in the distance, a short Genlock stood perched on a boulder. Cackling, it wielded a very large staff. Waving it in the air, a glowing aura spread across the battlefield. He felt the creature's powers, it was attempting to drain life force from all of them and pass it onto the darkspawn. Luckily, the creature's powers had no effect on Dorian, but the same could not be the said for his companions. Dorian could hear Alistair was quickly tiring and the darkspawn advancing. He knew somehow that creature needed to fall. But he was struggling to keep the darkspawn off himself.

Leliana had climbed on top of the caravan, sniping darkspawn from all angles. She seemed to be enjoying the battle, a thin smile was easily spotted on her lips.

"Leliana!" she looked over to Dorian. "Keep them off me!" she nodded, smile returning.

With that, he sprinted full speed towards the Emissary Genlock. Ducking swings from attacking Hurlock's, he kept running. He knew he was safe, he could both feel and hear arrows wiz past him striking the beasts mid attack. He spotted the Emissary, it readied to cast another enchantment over the battle. Quick thinking, Dorian shot ice from his hands, capturing the creature before it had the chance. He ran faster, the ice would not last long, then raising his staff with one quick motion a lightning bolt shot straight forward. As the blast reached the creature the ice sparked and cracked. With another quick movement, he brought his staff down onto the beasts head. Smashing down hard, the ice shattered. Emissary along with it.

Behind him the battle continued. No cheer for victory at his quick thinking or spark of bravery. The fight hadn't ended, he didn't end it but merely helped. Soon enough, Alistair and the others gained their energy and rapidly slashed and hacked each darkspawn. Without the Emissary to aid them, the creatures fell easily. Leliana's arrow took the final kill.

Dorian walked over to his comrades, Leliana jumped off her post and hung her bow. Alistair huffed from exhaustion and Sten wiped blood from his face. Dorian rasped, struggling to catch his breath.

"Well _that_ was exciting!" Bodan exclaimed rather cheerfully. The others laughed, all except Sten. He continued to walk as if nothing happened.

"Quick thinking on your part Dorian!" Alistair cheered, with a hearty slap on Dorian's back.

Not helping with his breathing he coughed and heaved violently. Leliana handed him her canister, he grasped it and drank heavily. He was healthy, but unused to such cardio.

"It was nothing, I only killed one… Leliana had my back the entire time." He smiled returning her canister.

"It was _not_ nothing, Emissary's are not easy to take out. Or even spot. They tend to remain out of sight. If you hadn't seen him this wouldn't have ended so quickly."

Dorian felt heat spread across his face. He wasn't used to admiration, so it was a bit overwhelming. He suddenly realized what just took place, a small amount of panic gripped him.

_Holy Maker! I could have died!_

With both his hands he pressed his face gently, attempting to gain a sense of calm once more. He had no idea what came over him.

_Probably that blighted taint again! That is going to get me killed soon enough!_

_Well… sooner than it plans to._

"If you are all quite finished, there appears to be more up ahead." Came a sultry voice from above.

All at once they looked up to see Morrigan perched rather casually in a tree. Alistair loudly cursed.

"Thanks for the help, Morrigan! Good to know you have our back!"

With a quick and fluent movement, almost animalistic like, she glided out of the tree and leapt onto the ground. Something near impossible for anyone else, it seemed so natural to her.

"Believe me oaf, if I was not helping that hex placed on you would have done far more than drain your energy." She smirked, Alistair went rigid. "Regardless, there are more up ahead."

"No rest for the Warden's." Alistair laughed.

"Oh joy, more darkspawn…" Dorian sighed as he led the group onward.

…

Days had rolled by quickly for the group. And each day was filled with fighting darkspawn or the occasional bandit, and the nights were filled with silence and vigilance. As they grew closer to the Dalish camp, Dorian could sense something strange in the forest air. The closer they got, the thinner the veil seemed to be. Something foul was lurking through the trees.

"We have arrived near the camp." Morrigan announced stepping into the path clearing. "I have spotted some elves nearby, within an hour we will reach them. Though I suggest only a small number approach further. Preferably leave the Qunari and buffoon behind."

"What do you mean?" Dorian asked as he walked to her.

"The Dalish do not take lightly to 'shems' as they call humans. The Qunari, would no doubt intimidate them. And as for the buffoon… take him if you like, but only if I am remaining here. I would rather not have to look at Alistair for some time." She glared at the blonde man.

"Oh." Dorian recalled how some of the Dalish elves at the tower acted when brought there. Understandably, they were very untrustworthy of humans and even other elves.

"Swamp hag…" Alistair muttered.

"Who do you suggest I bring then? Professional opinion, since it appears you understand the Dalish." Dorian attempted to ignore the childish display.

"Hmmm. Well, as I said the Qunari would probably frighten them. But for the rest, no matter what they will not take kindly. But, the Dalish relish magic, so a mage might be able to impress them."

"That is true." Dorian nodded, he had similar thoughts when they planned to venture to the camp.

"What do you want to do?" Alistair asked, placing a hand on Dorian's shoulder.

"Um, okay… give me a moment." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alistair, you remain behind and keep an eye on Sten and the caravan." Alistair nodded and headed over to the supplies. "Morrigan, will you join me?" she smirked and nodded. He looked over to Spirit and smiled. "Spirit will join me also." The dog barked happily. "He is a good tracker and can also sense darkspawn."

"And what of me?" Leliana spoke up.

Dorian thought for a moment, recalling something she mentioned on one of their nights at camp.

"You were a travelling minstrel, yes?" she nodded. "In your travels did you learn anything of this area, or the Dalish in fact?"

"Yes, I know quite a bit on both." She grinned.

"Then it's decided. But, we'd best hurry."

With that, the four of them left the caravan behind. Walking along Morrigan was visibly shooting glares at Leliana. They walked in near silence for a long time, that was until Leliana could take no more of Morrigan's glares.

"Something I can help with?" she asked calmly.

"So, from a minstrel to a chantry wench… rather the drastic career change. I am finding it rather, odd."

"I'm not sure if that is a question or a statement, Morrigan."

"Merely stating the obvious."

Leliana went to speak but was silenced by the sounds of Spirits hushed growls. Dorian crouched beside him.

"What is it boy?"

A very faint rustling in the trees could be heard. Dorian readied his staff, he knew it wasn't darkspawn.

"It appears… we are not alone." Morrigan spoke quietly.

Out from the bushes, a single elven woman stepped out, bow in hand. With a quick hand gesture, the group was surrounded by elves, all pointing their bows directly at Dorian and his companions. Dorian stood straight, hands held up in surrender. He did not want to fight them.

He stared to the elf presumably in charge. She had long blonde hair, tied messily up. Her ears pricked out from the loose strands. She wore mossy green armor and her bow seemed far too long for someone her size. Her face, he found rather fascinating. He had seen many elves in his life, the Circle homed all with the magical 'gift', but only a few shared her particular markings. Her face was covered in flowing tattoos. It seemed to enhance her natural beauty.

"Seems we found the Dalish…" he said calmly. "Or rather, they found us…"


	5. Just Another Story

_Chapter five: Just Another Story_

"Werewolves?!" Alistair chocked. "You-you can't be serious?"

"No Alistair, this is all an elaborate ruse. In reality, I gnawed on my own shin for a few seconds. It was all a jolly good bit of fun…" Dorian grumbled as he poured the vial over his exposed leg. He winced as the liquid touched the open wound.

Alistair stared wide-eyed. He was supposed to be preparing supper, but the boiling over water pretty much alerted everyone diner was something worth putting off. Leliana chuckled to herself while she restrung her bow. Dorian groaned slightly as he patted his leg with a healing cloth. The wound was visibly settling though.

"I don't mean to doubt… but? They are supposed to be myth, aren't they?" Alistair stuttered. Dorian shot a glare his direction.

"Yes, this big bite mark in my leg is a myth. I'm imagining all of this pain…" the mage grumbled.

"Take our word Alistair," Leliana piped up. "It was quite shocking when we first saw them, barely believed our own eyes. All very exciting though."

"All a quiver." Dorian grumbled.

"Damn!" Alistair shook his head in protest. "Wish I came along now."

Dorian muttered it was not all fun and games. Finally snapping out of his dazed expression, Alistair went back to tending to the overly cooked meaty soup.

"Does that mean… you're going to be…you know?" Alistair spluttered, partly excited. "You'd be the first Werewolf Grey Warden!"

"Thank the Maker, that will not be happening!" Dorian snorted. "Don't need more untamable hair problems, or nastier temper-tantrums, or even greater sleep depravity..."

"Don't forget, eating your weight in food every few minutes. Although, you seem well on your way with that one as well." Leliana giggled, he shot her a half glare, masking his amusement poorly.

"What do you mean? I'm confused…" Alistair scratched his head. Dorian had reframed from saying a smart mouthed remark. "What happened, start from the beginning."

"Uh, I'm tired Alistair…" Dorian grumbled. The herbal remedy he applied to his wound had stopped the scabbing, he was now able to use a spell. He began rubbing gently with his healing aura. The wound glowed slightly.

"Please…" the rather large man gave Dorian a somewhat disturbing look. His eyes literally grew three times in size and his lip poked out. He looked like a wounded kitten. Dorian continued to grumble.

"I'll tell you." Leliana chirped. "I do enjoy to tell a tale or two, you know."

"We know." Dorian chuckled slightly. "Be my guest." Leliana grinned.

…

The group wandered through the overgrowth, attempting as best to their abilities to be quiet. Leaving the safety of the camp, the further they walked the darker the forest grew. The trees towered overhead, blocking the sun from their view. Spirit stayed close to his master.

"So, we are now saving the clan. Was our quest not to stop the Blight, now we are to go out of our way and hunt for imaginary beasts?" Morrigan snarled.

"It's all intertwined…" Dorian sighed. The day did not go according to plan.

Upon arriving at the camp, being led by rather suspicious and agitated hunters, Dorian was introduced to the clan leader. Keeper Zathrien seemed friendly enough, when he became aware of Dorian's title as Grey Warden, the elf bowed slightly in respect. A gesture never shared between elves and humans. Slightly taken aback, Dorian attempted to sound confident. He requested assistance from the elves, sadly his request fell on deaf ears.

Zathrien was well aware of the Blight, news travelled between the Dalish on the progression of the Darkspawn Horde. But there was nothing they could do. The clan barely had enough healthy fighters left, after the attack. The Keeper showed Dorian the injured elves, all of the poor people writhed and groaned in agony. The clan was ambushed by monstrous creatures and only a few survived. When the young mage asked what attacked them, the answer was not what he expected.

"We are still going to try and end a supposed 'curse', just to get a few elves to help fight." Morrigan muttered.

"You do realize how many Dalish clan's in Ferelden there are, don't you?" Leliana near laughed. "If we gain the trust of just one clan, the rest will assemble together. We will have an army worthy of victory with the Dalish alone. And their skills..."

"I am well aware of all of that, Minstrel!" Morrigan interrupted. "It just seems less important right now, make them sort their own problems out. We are not errand boys, like everyone seems to think!"

"We can't ask for everything, and return nothing…" Dorian mumbled. His headache was growing more and more the further they walked.

The forest never seemed to end. Every time they felt they were going forward, something pulled them to turn around. Something didn't want them there. Curious, Dorian asked what Leliana knew of the Bricillian forest. She knew only a little more than he did. It was said the lands were cursed and haunted, but that was as far as Dorian's knowledge went. She informed him of the tremendous war that took place many years before his time, the many who were slaughtered were rumored to be the ones haunting the forest. Man and elf alike, their spirits dwelled among the trees, lost and desperate for freedom. It only grew to the eerie feeling hanging over the group. As if something or someone, was watching.

Suddenly, off in the distance a gut wrenching sound was heard. It sent shivers all over Dorian's spine. A blood curling scream cracked his ear drums. Spirit wined at the sound. They stopped dead in their tracks. Then, all at once, a mighty howl filled the air. Unnatural, and sickly. The group seemed petrified with fear.

As if the forest sensed their terror, the sky darkened even more. The area grew silent. The only sound that could be heard, was the beating of their own hearts. Close by, a crack could be heard. Their gazes snapped to the direction of the sound.

Taking deep breaths, Dorian walked slowly and quietly towards the trees. His hands and staff prepared for an attack. The others, were frozen stiff to the spot, feet firmly rooted to the earth. None of them dared to breathe, for fear of making a sound.

Dorian drew closer, and closer. His hands visibly shaking. With his staff he spread the leaves of the bushes apart. Frozen in place, he stood fear stricken. Staring back, were two great big yellow eyes…

…

"RAHHHHHH!" Leliana screamed, while jumping at Alistair.

The man clumsily fell backwards, spilling his bowl over his face. Leliana roared with laughter. Even Sten's mouth had a visible line of amusement. Dorian shook his head, suppressing the urge to laugh as well. Alistair rolled back to his sitting position, liking his lips.

"Ha-ha, very funny." Alistair grumbled whipping the soup from his face.

"Glad you agree." Leliana giggled sitting back down. She gave Dorian a wink.

"You do know, that didn't happen… right?" Dorian raised his eyebrow. He couldn't help but grin. Even though he knew what happened, he grew intrigued by her version. Despite some of its inaccuracy.

"I know, but it adds to the flavor of the story. Makes it more exciting, no?" She was finding it hard to speak without laughing. "It is far more enjoyable then; we aimlessly walked through the forest for several hours, then a group of big wolf-men charged at us. Was not all that shocking, no element of surprise when they attacked. We could even see them coming!"

"Yes, I agree. I don't think the Werewolves have read any good stories lately. Seem to have missed the 'how to create drama' lesson." He chuckled.

"Was that a joke?" Alistair stared, mock surprise. "Mister cranky-von-quiet-man made a joke? Though, I don't really get it…" the group began laughing again.

"I make jokes quite often, thank you." Dorian smirked.

"I think it's called 'sarcasm', not humor." Alistair poked Dorian in the shoulder. "You only seem to do it as a sign of annoyance, rather than amusement."

"We can't all be jesters." Dorian grinned to Alistair. The large man stuck a tongue out to his mage friend. Leliana rolled her eyes and laughed at their exchange.

Dorian couldn't help but smile. He hadn't remembered the last time he was able to relax and have a good laugh. Probably when him and Jowan were still children. He was the only person Dorian was able to let loose and have a laugh with, and even that ended suddenly. It seemed that overnight, Dorian had become a sour and angst ridden form of a man. Hell bent on being miserable. The thought sadden him a little.

_What happened to you?_

_I grew up…_

Looking down at his leg, the wound had completely vanished. Well almost, a very clear and near perfect scar was left, because of its magical origin the mark would remain no matter what. It was almost the exact shape of teeth marks. Dorian inwardly cheered, his first scar. And it had a rather exciting backstory. Noticing the camp was based beside a lake, Dorian tried to remember the last time he washed. It was when he still lived in the Circle, that was quite some time ago. He was starting to smell rather unpleasant.

"How is the water?" he nodded towards the lake.

"Not bad, could be warmer. I prefer my baths to be more than lukewarm." Leliana grumbled.

_Maker, I thought the jokes people made about the Orlesian's were over exaggerated! They really are high maintenance!_

_Oh, coming from mister "I need twelve hours sleep and fresh food, and do not directly speak to me!"_

_Touché_

"Won't bother me." He spoke to himself, while grabbing his sleepwear. These types of instances he was glad to have been born with the ability to light himself on fire.

"Oh! Next time, can you warm the water for me as well? Pleeeease." Leliana bit her lip. Dorian stared, clothes and towel in hand, rather stunned. She batted her eyelashes to the mage, who was rather dumbfounded.

"Uh-um-uuuhhh." He spluttered, Alistair snickered. "Yeah, okay… sure." With that he hurriedly walked off.

He could hear Leliana cheer and clap at the idea of a warm bath. Alistair began begging for her to continue the story, Dorian shook his head amused.

_Hopefully I'm back in time to hear about the Rhyming Tree… _

_She really has this magical way of telling stories… she's pretty amazi-what?_

He stopped dead in his tracks. The sudden thoughts frightened him, he hadn't planned on making friends and it seemed as though that choice was no longer being given to him. The days he spent traveling with these strangers, he had learned already so much about each of them. Come to even somewhat enjoy their company. He lightly tapped his head, attempting to remember emotions only lead to trouble. Distance is safe.

_Distance is certain…_

Lately he was finding it harder and harder to remain quiet. As if his nerves seemed to leave every now and then. He wondered why that was.

_Taint? Giving me confidence? Gah, who knows…_

Crouching down beside the lake he looked into the reflection of the water. He audibly groaned at the sight. His hair poked out in its usual angry way and he badly needed a shave. Checking the area, he was satisfied with the lakes seclusion. Undressing quickly he shivered. The night air stung slightly. Before even attempting to brave the water, he began raising his body's temperature.

_Much. Better. _

It was amazing how naturally the action was, like moving a finger or blinking. It was second nature to him. Easing into the water, he let out an overdramatic sigh of relief. Using his homemade herbal soap, he quickly washed and attempted to remove the stench of battle.

It seemed to come almost naturally to him now, fighting. Just like communicating, he was finding it harder to think before actions. When the first horde of werewolves attacked, he only silently flinched. It was definitely a sight to behold. He wasn't given the opportunity to panic though, Spirit charged barking and snarling. His faithful hound was prepared to vanquish the enemy, while his master cowered. Seeing his dog act so bravely, he began to snap out of it. He wasn't exactly given the choice to run, much as he would have liked to. So, to the best of his ability he casted spells and flung all forms of the elements at the attackers. His bravery didn't always seem to pay off though.

Witherfang, or rather the Lady of the Forest, leapt on him. Mauling his leg in her defense, then retreating. Due to the poison from the spirit's curse, the wound remained untreated until the task was complete. He was forced to press on with a growing discomfort in his legs muscles. At that moment, his taint-filled rage wanted nothing more than to tear the beast's heart out. Dorian thought it was funny how his plans always seem to change.

_It was for the best. You saved not only the elves, but the men and women trapped as well. Zathrien's actions were not in vain._

The thoughts were not that comforting. He was still pained with the task of informing the clan. Grateful for Dorian's help, he sensed they questioned and resented the man's actions. Sighing, he pressed the memories down again. He would reflect more as he wrote in his journal later that evening.

Finishing his bath, he quickly dried himself and dressed into his spare clothes. He put on his new trousers, leather and hand made by the elven craftsmen, and a clean white shirt. The clothes smelled earthy, he inhaled deeply. Reminded him of his gardens. His leg ached slightly as he hopped to put his shoes on. He knew that mark was going to hurt for a while, due to its magical heritage.

"Bleeding tree-she-devil… bite me than expect my help…" he grumbled as he headed back to camp. "Didn't even have a chance to defend….gr…"

"Bas Seerabas?" Sten called quietly. Dorian turned to him, somewhat startled. "I wish to speak."

Both worried and intrigued, Dorian walked over to Sten's post. The Qunari had no tent nor a bed, he merely had his pack placed down and armor laid out neatly. Weapons were on hand at all times. Dorian even wondered in the man ever slept at all.

"Yes, Sten?" he asked, rather quietly.

"You were injured today, badly." He pointed down to Dorian's leg. "Why did you not defend yourself?"

"I-I did. It was unexpected, the wolf was on top of me. It was resistant to my magic and my staff would have been useless..." he stuttered attempting to justify his actions. The Qunari simply nodded.

"You need to be ready, that will not happen again." With that, Sten held out a small blade towards Dorian.

The mage looked at it, he tilted his head lopsided. His expression unsure what it was looking at. The Qunari simply shoved the blade at Dorian, causing him to drop his robes and armored boots. Sten grunted in annoyance, then picking his two-handed sword up turned to face Dorian. The Qunari towered over his small stature, the mage was visibly shaking. He held the sword, near hugging it. Sten raised his blade, and made a controlled stance.

"You are beyond inexperienced, we will not battle, yet." Dorian went rigid at the words, that meant there was a possibility for it in the future. "For now, do as I do Bas."

Sten held the blade upward, hands slightly apart, a firm grip. His legs spread slightly and poised, he leant favorably on the right one. The stance was to help balance the weight of the blade. Dorian awkwardly attempted how the Qunari stood. His gangly limbs poised in that way must have been the sight. Sten did not laugh or show emotion, he simply nodded.

"That is how you hold your blade."

With that, the Qunari took a swing. Bringing the sword up and slashing the air diagonally from his shoulders. The blade hummed as air passed it. He nodded to Dorian, the mage attempted to copy. His movement was nowhere near as swift or strong, he nearly toppled over from the weight of the blade. Sten nodded.

"You will do as I do, until I say that is enough for this night. Then, you will take what I show you and practice. Do not, and the next time you are attacked, you may not be as fortunate." His words were blunt, he was not demanding or sincere. What he said had honesty, they were words and that was all. Dorian nodded. Sten began demonstrating movements and stances, occasionally swinging his blade into the nearby tree. Dorian would proceed to copy. This display went on for some time.

…

"Uuuhhh…" Dorian groaned as he slumped towards the fire. Alistair had gone to his post with Spirit, both vigilantly standing guard. Though Dorian noticed the large man was rather jumpy for a change.

"That was interesting." Leliana laughed as the mage flopped lifelessly in front of his tent. "I did not think Sten would have had a soft spot, but you seem to have found it. Maybe he doesn't dislike mages, which is odd considering…" she rambled while sharpening her dagger.

Dorian nodded, he barely had enough strength to breathe let alone discuss Qunari's and their odd train of thoughts. He did however look over to Alistair and let out a small laugh. Leliana noticed and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"That your doing?" he nodded towards the visibly startled man.

"Maybe…" she grinned. "Apparently, our dear friend has a little phobia of ghosts. He became a little spooked when I told him about the ancient elven spirit, and the trapped mages amulet. He also seems to have this brilliant idea you are now possessed."

"Huh, that would be something." He grunted. "Honestly, I don't think it worked. I mean, that bleeding workout over there was a nightmare! I thought arcane warriors were supposed to have impeccable strength…"

"So the legends go. It is often said one only achieves the true ability with years and years of practice. I'd get started if I were you." She smiled.

"Eh, tomorrow… I'm officially death walking right now. You know, he expects me to do that every night! I'm going to be a mushed pulp by the time we even _see_ the Archdemon. Gah!"

Leliana giggled and stared rather fondly at Dorian, he noticed and felt immediately uncomfortable. He felt his ears burn.

"Wh-why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nooo reason." She giggled. "I just think it is rather wonderful you are able to talk to us more. This entire evening you seem to have somehow broken out of your shell. Perhaps the spirit gave you different abilities than arcane?"

Dorian squirmed uncomfortably. Now that she mentioned it, he was finding it easier at times to speak. It had felt only yesterday he was back at Ostagar, jittery and frightened. It was near impossible for him to speak, but here he was. He suspected it was from listening to everyone banter and bicker, he was getting used to how people communicated. Or, like his earlier suspicions perhaps the taint was effecting his ability to over process. He liked the idea of learning himself though, seemed less sinister. One thing he was proud of, he was a fast learner.

"I-um… yeah…" he also found it easy to forget lessons.

"No! I've broken the spell!" she shook her head making disapproving noises while slightly smiling.

For a moment they sat quietly. The flames flickered and cracked. Dorian leaned back on his elbows, out of the corner of his eye he watched Leliana. She sat rather poised, legs elegantly folded to the side hands on her lap. She seemed almost out of her element as much as the mage did. So gentle, and ladylike. He would nearly forget how dangerous she was with both a blade and a single arrow. A deadly combination, beauty beyond normality and skills to match. She seemed to notice his stare and smiled slightly. He instantly flicked his eyes forward.

"So, Alistair enjoyed the story?" he asked hoping to bring attention elsewhere.

"Up until I said 'but that is a tale for another time." She grinned. "I do enjoy a cliffhanger."

"So do I…" Dorian loved stories, that was probably what he missed the most about his old life. The books he carried with him held knowledge, not imagination. Though, he read every book in the library at least five times, so he wasn't missing much. "Though I am curious. If you are recounting true events, why make it a cliffhanger?"

"Our adventure is not over just yet." She smiled. "Nor do I doubt it ever truly will be. One journey always leads to another."

"How true." He nodded.

"Before you retire, would you like to hear one?" Leliana smiled, picking her lute up.

Dorian had to contain his enthusiasm, it was as if she read his mind.

"Please, might help me sleep."

"Oh, well I won't tell you any horrors." She winked. Dorian shook his head in protest, any story would be a good one.

Leliana began lightly playing her instrument, to set the mood Dorian assumed. She began to tell the tale of the brave knight Ser Aveline. Dorian had read this story time and time again, but now it was different. If he chose to word along with her, only one word would have been correct, Aveline. He was hearing this tale for the first time. She paused in moments of drama, her face changed with each mood the story took. Dorian was pulled in, each pause he would press for her to go on. Smiling, she would comply. He knew the outcome, a sad tale if ever told, and yet it was new to him. Whenever he read the story, the ending seemed sad and tragic, from Leliana's eyes it was heroic and honorable. He smiled sadly as the story came to an end.

"Another one, please?" he looked to her, eyes pleading. She simply smiled and started playing a knew tune.

…

The hours slipped by. Alistair had swapped watch with Sten. Dorian offered, but the Qunari ignored and took his place.

_Maybe he __**doesn't **__sleep…_

Dorian had been sitting by the fire for quite some time, listening to every tale Leliana had to offer. She told him of Andraste and her betrayal, the brave elf Shartan who stood up for his people, and even told a tale of Flemeth. This story intrigued him the most. He knew the tales of the Witch of the Wilds, but Leliana suspected the Flemeth who rescued Dorian was a false. She even challenged to speak with Morrigan on it. He cringed, she seemed to tolerate the mage, but that was perhaps because he did not bagger her. He didn't want Morrigan's attitude to change towards him.

Alistair joined them, and requested she tell tales of Grey Warden's and Darkspawn. She of course, obliged. The tale of how the Darkspawn was created, made Dorian's skin crawl. He knew how they came to be, it was common knowledge for mages. The Chantry Mother enjoyed terrorizing the apprentices with tales of twisted magic, warning them that magic lead only to evil. Leliana's version did not spout this belief. She told how the Darkspawn were twisted not only by magic, but by the corruption of the earth. The blame was not solely on mages. But greed of man also held the key.

When the story ended, Alistair groaned with annoyance.

"Why do they have to end… tell us another?" he grinned.

"Ha-ha you two are like little boys." She giggled. "But I think, tonight I have told enough. I must save some for later, no?"

Dorian smiled, he liked the idea of hearing more another time.

"I do however, have a song. If you are willing to hear me?" the men nodded. "I was just thinking about what happened to the elves and I… I am reminded of a song sung to me, many years ago."

Her eyes became sad, clouded and dark. She stared intently into the fire.

"It was… when my mother died, and this wise elven woman comforted me and told me that we shouldn't fear death, or hate it." She spoke to no one, just merely spoke. "Death is just another beginning. One day we must all shed our earthly bodies to allow our spirits to fly free…"

Dorian could see a hint of tears welling in Leliana's eyes, he was uncertain what to do. He was bad enough at speaking in general, comforting was something new entirely.

"That is, comforting." He rubbed his neck and tried to smile warmly. "To one day fly free, just as the birds do…"

"It's a beautiful sentiment, I think. One that brings peace and hope for the grieving…" she smiled back.

With that, she began to string a slow and mellow tune on her lute. And then, she began singing.

Her voice, was beyond magical. It seemed to cover over the forests, flying into the night sky. Dorian was certain, the Maker himself would have heard her. And yet, she sung only to the two men before her. Her voice was soothing, comforting. It felt like it reached into Dorian, spoke to him.

Alistair bowed his head and closed his eyes, listening intently. Dorian however, could not look away. Not wanting to miss a moment. The words she spoke were unable to be understood, and yet he was captivated. He felt as if the words called out to him, that he didn't need to her them, he could feel them. He was moved, he felt as if he was hearing sound for the first time. Seeing colour for the first. Feeling warmth for the first time.

He could feel his heart steady, soothed by the siren call. The world seemed to stop, nothing else mattered right then and there. Only the words she sang. She looked only to the fire, her fingers gently strumming her instruments strings. Her voice never strained, never broke. It was strong, stronger than anything Dorian could imagine. He was unable to describe the sound. It was… angelic.

Her eyes would occasionally close, allowing herself to feel the music she made. Her lips moved, danced, with each word. Dorian couldn't help but watch them, confused how such a beautiful sound could come so easily to her. The music comforting him, reminded him of the music he used to love. The songs of the simple and yet elegant nightingales. Gentle in appearance, and yet fierce in song.

And then, it was over. The world resumed, as if it never existed. The music ended and it felt as if the air missed its presence. Just as Dorian did.

Alistair yawned, thanked Leliana and headed to his tent. Dorian, did not move. His face was frozen, a wide-eyed look of awe was the best way to describe it. He was stunned how willingly Leliana shared a deep pain, the loss of her mother, and he was completely amazed by the music she released from her lips. Something inside him flicked and fluttered, it made him feel dizzy. Their eyes finally met.

"You are staring, Dorian." She was actually blushing.

_Is that possible? You're making her blush?_

_Well of course you are! You're looking at her like a fool!_

"Uh, sorry…" he mumbled looking away awkwardly "Thank you…"

"For what?"

"Sharing." He felt his cheeks burn. It seemed like the best way to sum that evening up.

"Nothing to thank me for, I am an open…book." She seemed to pause for a moment, then continued. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure?"

"Where are you from, before you became part of the Circle in Ferelden?"

Dorian's expression was of actual horror. He was not expecting that question to arise, ever!

"Um, why do you want to know?"

"Your name."

"Sorry?" his expression calmed slightly.

"It is not Ferelden. In fact, I recall on my travels meeting someone with your name." she smiled, his heart restarted. This was a better track than he expected. "It's of Tevinter origin. He was a Magister, I recall it was a popular name. An honor to be given it, actually. It was usually given to talented children of high class."

Dorian let out a single laugh.

"Certainly doesn't suit how I got it then…"

"I know you are not from Tevinter, mages do not go to the Circle. You would be a Magister by now if born there, being a very powerful mage." Dorian blushed at her words. "That is why I find it curious."

He let out a long sigh. She had shared a rather big an unexpected fact about herself that night, he felt it only fair to do the same. He recalled that was how Angus was able to learn of Dorian's conscription. An exchange of history.

"I-I am not sure if that is my real name." he played with his hands and stared into the fire. "The Templars who brought me to Ferelden couldn't pronounce my name. It was apparently a mouth-full, a lot of people from Kirkwall have fancy names."

"You're from Kirkwall, but you don't remember your real name?"

"I was five at the time… it wouldn't have mattered, I was too scared to argue with them. I simply sat and remained silent. Soon enough, everyone was calling me Dorian, so it stuck. I think my name sounded like it, and as you said it is a common name for mages, so the Templars thought it sounded right. I can't remember what it was now though, even if I tried."

"They changed your name?"

"Yeah." He exhaled. "Templars can do what they want. They were paid a heavy price to take me far away… so I was pretty much property. Might as well have been a Mabari."

"You were sold?"

"My family, had a reputation to keep…" he growled. "To have an Amell born with magic blood, such the scandal! Though not many nobles about town knew my family's dirty little secret… My bloodline is riddled with magic. My mother was lucky enough to have been born 'normal' and was fortunate enough to marry wealthy." He suppressed the urge to punch the ground. "Thanks to my accidental birth, pretty sure everyone knows now. My father didn't even take ownership for me, I believe. Amell, was my mother's name."

Feelings he thought he had long forgotten were becoming more and more fiery. It probably didn't help with his new found 'talents' when it came to anger. It was hard to contain the hate any longer. He was feeling better by finally saying what he always held deep.

"I was their first child, and they threw me away. I was a baby, I don't even remember what I did to make them realize what I was. All I remember is a fire…" he traced his left palm, following an invisible line all too familiar to him. "Then yelling, crying, and soon enough… the Templars arrived. They were going to tell people thugs killed me. Erase me from their line, my death would have been easier for them. Apparently the Knight Commander didn't get that memo, she wrote my name on my falactory… Amell. No matter what, I was branded with that cursed name! The name is mine, and yet it isn't…"

Leliana stared intently, sadness in her eyes. Dorian stared into the fire, feeling he belonged in the flames. They seemed soothing, natural and comforting. Dancing gracefully, beautiful. Magical. And yet, people didn't understand it. Burning forever, unless it was snuffed out. Dangerous, untamable, so it must be contained. It must be controlled, otherwise destruction and chaos. That was probably the reason he was able to light himself ablaze, because he was fire. In more ways than one…

"They didn't even say goodbye… I cried and called out to them… but they ignored me…" he felt the tears buried for years finally sting. "I wasn't their son… not anymore…"

Leliana nearly jumped up, in one quick movement she sat herself beside him. As he cried, she pulled his head onto her shoulders. He wanted more than anything to push her away. Instead, he let the embrace happen as he silently sobbed.

This was why he avoided people, this was why we never wanted friends. The Circle was perfect for him, because he could live alone and no one would care. His hands hung defenseless, his cheek buried into her dress. Tears soaking through the material. He could hear her heart beat against his head.

"Shh, I'm so sorry I brought it up." Leliana whispered as she held him. "You are stronger than them, all of them. Never forget that."

Dorian let it out. All the years of hate. The years of fear and resentment. The jealousy of others. The loss of a life he could have had. The loss of another life taken from him. All of it. He cried for his parents abandoning him. He cried for being taken over the seas and thrown into a terrifying world. He cried for the mage children on that ship who suffered the same. He cried for Jowan, his only friend. He cried and cursed him for betraying him, and he cried for not leaving with him. He cried for being casted once more into the unknown. And lastly he cried, because he so desperately _**didn't**_want to cry.

In the end, Dorian had cried over fourteen years of tears. And strangely, he felt better. He then remembered where he was, and whose neck he was snuggled into. Feeling a different type of fire, he pushed away awkwardly. Leliana let him, knowing her job was done. She smiled warmly.

"Uh, sorry… thanks… I should um… night…"

With that, he scurried into his tent. He could almost hear the smile in her voice as she said _sweet dreams_. Sighing heavily, he crawled under the blankets and planted his face firmly into the pillow. Rolling over he noticed his journal. He grumbled.

_Tomorrow. I've had enough reflection for one night._

_**Authors Notes:**_

**Dorian became an arcane warrior. Since then he was able to use swords just as well as a regular warrior (which is good because he seemed to always be the target of attacks). So that's where the idea of Sten training him came from. He saw a weak leader, and even though he could easily overpower him, he made an oath to be loyal. So instead attempted to make him stronger.**


	6. Getting Easier

_Chapter six: Getting Easier_

The days and nights seemed to roll by for the travelers. On they walked from the Bricillian Woods, towards the town known as Redcliffe. Alistair had practically begged to head there next, in hopes of gaining the Arl's help. The only information they had heard on the Arl of Redcliffe was he was gravely ill, men were being sent on wild chases for the fabled Urn of Sacred Ashes. The legend goes that the ashes were those of the prophet Andraste, it is said they held healing powers beyond any magic. Dorian simply hoped the Arl didn't require a myth, that people were just becoming desperate.

Alas, their journey was never as straight forward as they hoped. What should have only been a few days journey, became near months. Along the path, many caravans were attacked by darkspawn and raiders. Without a need for hesitation, the group always offered assistance and protection. Farmers begged for help against attacks, and the group always did so. Many of the people rewarded them with gifts and coins, food and supplies.

It was thanks to those random acts of kindness the group had two new members. Both, very unlikely comrades.

The first to join, was probably the strangest. At the request of a travelling merchant, Dorian ventured to a small village close by in hopes to gain control over a mythical creature; a mighty Gollum. Many stories were told of Gollum's, stone giants crafted by the ancient dwarves that dwelled deep bellow the ground. This wasn't what drew him to investigate, rumors something sinister had taken over the town spread. He feared for the innocents that lived there.

Darkspawn had invaded, and only few survivors remained. Upon rescuing the town and ridding them of the darkspawn, the man whom claimed ownership of the statuesque creature was happy to see it leave. He claimed it to be a monster, frozen in time and haunting over the village. Grateful for the group's intervention, and rescue of his only daughter, he bid them farewell.

Standing in the center of the town, stood the mighty creature. It was frozen in a pose that was hard to understand, it seemed both enraged and pained. The group paused to admire the creature frozen, they were intrigued, and worried. Dorian somehow was able to awake the creature, the control rod was ineffective but held enough power to alert the creature. For something to behold, it was intelligent and spoke fluently. They learned the Gollum's name to be Shale. Dorian couldn't help but smile as he introduced himself, after years of hearing such stories and legends, to meet one in person who was willingly communicating with him, was something extraordinary. To their surprise, Shale requested to join their quest, in hopes of finding a purpose.

And so, the Gollum Shale became the seventh to join the group. The others seemed wary of the creature, Sten often flinched in its presence. Morrigan was curious and intrigued, but her fascination quickly lulled when Shale began to insult her. Alistair seemed overly timid and kept a safe distance, whereas Leliana was completely amazed. Often Dorian spied to two walking together speaking. Dorian, oddly, did not fear Shale. Something about it, perhaps the honesty, he found intriguing. Even despite Shale refereeing to him as "It" or "Mage", or even "Squishy Thing" he enjoyed talking to it. Soon enough, Shale seemed to loosen up around the young man as well.

The second to join, was more a surprise than the mighty Gollum. As the group walked closer to Redcliffe, an elven woman ran towards them, screaming and begging for help. Dorian and the others ran after her, ready to take on darkspawn or bandits. What they found, was not at all what was expected. Standing by a slaughtered horse and burnt caravan, was a single elf. The woman ran to him and said something inaudible. The elf stepped forward, smiling. Then, all at once the travelers were surrounded.

They had been set up, by none other than Teyrn Loghain. He had sent a group of assassins to kill the last of the Grey Warden's. Dorian learned this because he spared the life of the leading elf. A wily and sarcastic fellow, named Zevran.

Seeing the elf was still breathing, Dorian decided to interrogate him. Much to his surprise, the elf was more than cooperative. Even complimented the group for defeating him. Once all the information was willingly shared, Zevran offered a rather interesting proposal. He no longer served loyalty to his assassination guild, named the Crows, nor did he ever have loyalty to Loghain. He proposed Dorian show him mercy and spare his life, in return he would serve Dorian with the utmost respect and trust.

Dorian didn't trust that deal, considering the loyalty he shared for his brothers in arms. How easily he broke all ties when it suited him. But, the elf shared with him a rather sad fact. That the man had been in fact, sold into the role. It was never a choice, he was practically a slave. He had spent his life fulfilling the role he was bought to play. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but nonetheless it was a job he was forced into. And now that he failed his task, he was better off dead to the Crows. Dorian's defenses lowered slightly, he knew all too well what that was like. To be sold off, and to lose all connections to the life you once knew. And so, much to some of the teams protests, Zevran of the Crows joined them.

The small group Dorian had grown to feel comfortable with, had gained numbers. Each member a different story to tell, each a different skill to offer. The days rolled by, and soon enough Dorian was able to speak with the newcomers and learn things from both. He was even able to help recover a piece of Shale's missing past. Shale had requested to search a nearby dwarven thaig in search for anything that might help her learn of her missing past. He agreed, though some of his companions thought it foolish. Despite protests, he followed Shale to the mine. Leliana and Spirit of course accompanied them. On that day, Shale declared loyalty to the Mage. Forever grateful to learn even the smallest piece of the Gollum's past.

Zevran, told many things of his life in a brothel and with the Crows. The deepest he learnt was the man had a fetish for leather, an implied notion he was homesick. He acted cocky and flirtatious towards everyone. He took great pleasure in being suggestive towards the somewhat clueless Dorian. Or loved to make Alistair blush brightly at comments. He took great interest towards Leliana, but the minstrel turned him down constantly. So, his advances were then forth aimed towards Morrigan. Much to her distress. Despite his hard exterior, he seemed kind hearted. Dorian came to like the assassin, despite his antics.

With the large number of people traveling, it now seemed unwise to travel at night. Often they would continue to move despite the sun setting, but now it was no longer safe to do so. They would be easier to spot. So each evening a camp was mad. The atmosphere always seemed to lessen at these times, so Dorian came to enjoy ordering to call it a night. Most would go their separate ways. Morrigan set her private camp close to the woods, Sten would stand watch, and now Shale seemed to join him. Dorian noticed the Qunari had lowered his defenses enough to accept the Gollum as an ally.

Alistair and Leliana had seemed to become friends, and the fellow Warden often called Dorian a 'true pal' as well. Always resorting in an awkward mumbled reply from the still somewhat shy mage. Leliana would always tell stories or initiate conversations, especially with Dorian. It appeared Zevran had decided to join that circle of friends as well. Adding to the cheery nature of their nights.

…

Dorian prepared the nights meal, fresh salads and boiled beef. With a heavy amount of spices and herbs. He always had trouble putting his tent up, so instead offered to cook while the others did that task for him. Alistair groaned at the sight of the healthy and well thought meal Dorian made. Soon enough, the whole party gathered around to eat.

Most of them seemed rather thrilled with the change, especially Leliana. Quiet sounds of enjoyment could be heard as they ate, Dorian smiled to himself. Shale sat with them, though she didn't require food. Sten agreed with Alistair, although he believed overthinking what one ate was impractical.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Zevran chirped, in his rather soothing Antivan accent. "The healthier you eat, the healthier you are."

"Parshara, I am aware of that painted elf." Sten grumbled.

"Have I mentioned I enjoy that adorable nickname you have given me?"

"Heeey." Alistair squeaked. "He is new here, why has he got a nickname and I don't?"

"I do not know what this term means." Sten's tone as neutral as ever.

"You see Alistair," Leliana piped up this time. "Qunari do not address one and other with names, rather roles or titles. He calls you Warden, same with Dorian. I am Minstrel, Shale is Giant, and Zevran is now painted elf…apparently."

"I'm also Bas Seerabas." Dorian added, with a small smile. He wasn't sure why, but he kind of liked how Sten had given him a title in Qunari.

"But what of the lovely Morrigan?" Zevran purred. Dorian cringed, he slightly glanced over to see Morrigan's expression. That elf had already pushed his luck with her.

"Witch." She said matter-of-factly.

Alistair audibly laughed, mid mouthful. Dorian looked up fully and met eyes with her, for just a moment. He smiled lightly, she ignored and went back to eating.

"What does yours mean, my dear Warden?" Zevran broke the silence.

"Me? Oh, Seerabas is Qunari for mage or 'dangerous thing'. Bas is the term used for non-followers of the Qun, or it translates properly as 'thing'." He grinned at Sten, who was visibly either impressed or grateful to see the mage was paying attention when they spoke together. Zevran gasped.

"That is rather insulting… well, the thing part. You need a new nickname!"

Dorian groaned as the party began throwing names around. Even Shale and Morrigan joined the conversation. Dorian felt his face burning with embarrassment.

"Spirit Fingers?" Alistair said.

"No, that is terrible. What about Match Stick?" Leliana giggled. Dorian oddly didn't mind that one.

"Not bad, we'll hold onto that. Hmm, what about Sparky." Zevran added a dramatic hand wave.

"No, Seerabas is better. It is a title, demanding of respect, not mockery." Sten growled.

"Hot Head, seems to be his reaction most of the time." Morrigan mumbled, but was loud enough the others noticed. They nodded in approval.

"He can definitely be that." Leliana agreed.

"When he isn't all dark and broody." Alistair laughed.

"Dark and brooding is an attractive trait, why should he not be so?" Zevran snickered.

"Quiet and shy can be as well." Leliana added.

"Indeed they can be…" Zevran purred. Dorian was close to running away with embarrassment.

"Hey! I am here you know." Dorian nearly squeaked, voice breaking. The group noticed and began laughing.

"That doesn't suit It. It needs to be called something that matches how It is most of the time. Something to sum It up."

"Anything is better than 'It', Shale…" Dorian grumbled.

"I call It, Mage as well."

"I don't care what you guys chose, I'm calling him Twitchy." Alistair shouted with a grin.

"Excuse me…" Dorian said mid-mouthful.

"Come on, you love it! You can't deny you don't. We've all noticed, most of the time you do this little jerk thing with your head. Like a nervous Nug around starving Dwarves, or a mouse close to a sleeping cat."

"Charming analogy… why are we naming me anyway? I'm not a pet?"

"It's a sign of affection." Zevran winked.

"Seerabas is a title, not a mark of 'affection'." Sten grumbled.

Leliana began giggling uncontrollably, the others looked over with quizzical expressions.

"What about 'Bright Eyes'…"

Dorian's face must have lit up with the colour red, all of Thedas could have seen him at that moment. The others all joined in on her laughing. He never really could handle being the center of attention, nor being laughed at. But, as a young boy Jowan taught him there was nothing wrong with having a joke.

"_People will laugh at us. Or you, cause you're funny lookin! But what you need to know, is two things I always stand by. One, if they are laughing at you, pay no attention. Two, if they are laughing with you, give them something to laugh about!" _

It was odd that these words he spoke would carry through with him now, considering he was only a child at the time.

_Funny how his intelligence seemed to die off with age… _

"Let's… put a pin in that one." Dorian gave the group a crooked smile.

The night seemed to slow. While they gathered around the fire, they each shared stories of adventures. Zevran shared many blush worthy events not many would repeat in polite society. Alistair went from listening intently, to covering his ears. Leliana would giggle and Dorian stared wild-eyed with bright cheeks. Sten told tales of glorious battle. Alistair accounts of drunken merriment at the Warden's keep. Shale, told how she came to hate birds. Dorian cringed at the thought of Shale squashing birds, he was fond of the little animals. Leliana, simply smiled and listened. Morrigan, no one had noticed, slipped out a while ago.

Dorian had noticed however, looking around to find her he spied her over by her own campfire. He felt sad all of a sudden, he wasn't sure why. She was never all that nice to him, never seemed to care. Even Sten and Shale had their moments, but Morrigan was always indifferent. Yet, he grew to care for her. He had grown to care for them all. Often he would come across items that would be helpful to the others, or simply thought they would enjoy them. When they were not looking, he would place them beside their packs or tents. He would rather they received the gift without thanking him.

He felt odd coming to care for complete strangers.

_You're growing soft… soft is a weakness. _

Excusing himself, he left the party to their laughter and stories. Spirit wanted to follow, but he instructed the dog to wait behind for him. As he grew closer, he noticed Morrigan was reading one of his book he left for her to use. She snapped her head up and met his eyes.

"Yes?" she did not sound angry or annoyed, this startled Dorian a little.

"Sorry to bother you… I um…" he rubbed his neck. "May… I-uh… join you?" he gestured to the ground beside the campfire. Morrigan nodded and continued to read.

The two sat there for a few moments in silence. Morrigan read and Dorian stared into the flames. In the distance the laughter could still be heard from the others. Glancing over, he spotted Zevran doing some strange waving dance. He shook his head.

"You can rejoin them, if you wish." Morrigan spoke without taking her eyes off her book.

"Will you come with me?"

"No."

"Why-why not?"

Sighing, she closed her book and looked up at the mage. Eyes calm and yet focused, she spoke both swiftly and politely.

"I do not wish to. Tis uncomfortable sitting there and hearing them share things. Next they will wish me to do the same."

"Yeah… I understand that." Dorian sighed.

"And yet, you seem to belong with them." She raised her eyebrows. "Tis strange. I remember the quiet and overly polite mage I met in the Wilds, and you are no longer he. You are, and yet, you are not. I do not think it is the taint changing you either, you seem to be… growing. Adapting on your own."

"Uh… thanks?" he was growing alright, growing uncomfortable at present.

"Tis not a compliment. Merely an observation. What is strange is that I see myself in you, and I do not like it."

"Why is that?"

"Why is what? Be more specific."

"Sorry… Why do you see yourself in me?" he saw only a few similarities, that being a mage and having unusually bright eyes.

"You and I grew up isolated. I more than you, though. You grew up surrounded by people, and yet did not belong and went out of your way to remain alone. I however, grew up isolated from people and therefore remained as such."

"I see."

"And yet, you adapt to the world you find yourself in. Both combat, and in social graces. I find you… intriguing..." she narrowed her eyes and stared directly at Dorian.

He nervously fidgeted on the spot. He desperately wanted a topic change. He decided he would initiate it, since Morrigan was contempt in trying to read his mind.

"If you don't mind me asking… how did you become a shape changer?"

Her eyes didn't seem to waver from his, but she relaxed her body slightly and answered the question.

"I was not born such. Tis a skill of Flemeth's, taught over many years in the Wilds. The Chasid have tales of we witches, saying that we assume the forms of creatures to watch them from hiding. When a child is alone and separate from his tribe, that is when we strike, dragging the young boy kicking and screaming to our lair to be devoured." she chuckled at the gory description. "A most amusing legend…"

Dorian couldn't help but chuckle quietly as well. It was easy to think how foolish the ideas on mages truly were. How people feared what they could not control.

"Oh, that does sound like something you'd do." He tried to sound sarcastic, but realized it might have been taken elsewhere. Luckily, Morrigan seemed to notice what he was doing.

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "I truly doubt that children would be worth the effort. They are filthy, smelly things full of tears and snot and trouble. That said, I cannot speak for the tales of my mother. She has, after all, lived a very lengthy time in the Wilds and done many things I know nothing of…. Why do you ask? Is there something specific you wish to know?"

His interest had gained quite a bit over time. He was curious what it would be like to possess this type of magic. It wasn't evil, just ancient and unknown.

"Can anyone become a shape changer?"

"Anyone with sufficient will. But the act of transformation is a magical one. Tis a spell, and thus requires a mages talents… Indeed, you could learn the spells required… if I cared to teach you."

Dorian could see the expression on her face was one of amusement. He immediately knew it would not be that simple. She began explaining to him in full detail what it was like to run with wolves and fly with birds, to become something entirely different. How free it felt. She assured him that only animal transformation was possible though. Hearing all of it only made him want to learn more, it was possible that was her game.

"I've never heard of magic like this before."

"No? Tis not unheard of, in the remote corners of the world. There are traditions of magic outside the Circle of Magi, despite what those mages have you believe. Some of these traditions are old, indeed, passed down as carefully-guarded lore from one generation to the next. The zealots of the Chantry would uproot all such practitioners if they could. But as luck have it, some still exist. My mother is such a one."

"That's good, such traditions need to be preserved." Dorian was well aware of the dangers of Apostates and magic outside the Circle, but to lose it would be a complete waste. Morrigan's expression softened, it almost looked relieved.

"I'm shocked that you think so, being a mage of the Circle as you were." She near grinned. "But perhaps you felt a little like a caged bird, as well, caught within that dark tower?"

Dorian was feeling that unnerving sense creep back. That was an uncomfortably accurate summary of how his life felt at times. And like a freed bird, he was near unable to cope without the cage.

"No… not really…" he lied. She raised an eyebrow.

"I see. An odd opinion to have, then." It was clear she did not believe him.

For a while the two sat in silence once more. Neither needed to speak, they simply sat there. It didn't feel odd to Dorian, he actually felt more at ease with her when they remained silent. Eventually though, one of them broke the silence, and small talk presumed. It wasn't clear who started it up again, but it flowed all the same.

Morrigan told of her life alone in the Wilds. She told of how she grew up, often wondering of the life beyond. Her only companions were the animals and trees. She even shared a deep memory, something to anyone would seem unimportant. But to Dorian, it seemed something very intimate.

Morrigan told of a mirror she once stole from a noble woman. Beautiful and elegant, she worshiped and treasured it. Admiring her own reflection and having a taste of the world she was never a part of. But, it was never meant to be. Flemeth discovered it and destroyed it before her little girl's eyes. A lesson that Dorian would never understand. Hearing this, he wondered how lonely she too must have been.

"But you don't need to live that way any longer." Dorian said, but wasn't sure who to.

"Do I not? I am an Apostate mage, even if I have left the Wilds. The darkspawn are yet undefeated. No, there is much that remains…." She shook her head, denying. "To return to your original question, perhaps my time in the Wilds was indeed lonely. But such was how it had to be. I find myself at times wondering what might have become of the girl with the beautiful, golden mirror. But such fantasies have no place amidst reality."

For some time the two continued to speak. Morrigan would tell of the 'games' her mother would play, where they hunted Templars. It seemed cruel, but she reminded Dorian how far worse her fate would have been if they did not. She told of her life in the Wilds, a feel of remorse and longing for her home. She revealed how the life outside the Wilds confused and somewhat frightened her. Dorian couldn't help but agree, with nearly everything she said. Often, Morrigan even smiled and on rare occasion, she giggled. Something none of them ever thought possible.

Something that made them relate even further, their lack of social graces. Together they relayed gestures that both confused and offended them. Handshakes, bows, hugs, even a simple smile required planning. They both seemed to have hardly an understanding of what to do and how to do it when it came to speaking with people. Though, she reminded Dorian he was quickly learning.

Once Morrigan had finished speaking, she asked if Dorian had any tales to tell himself. He smiled and told only simple things. The routines he was forced to keep, and how he grew to need them. The strict lessons, and harsh punishments for failing them. The curfews, the chores, the time for silence. All of it which he now found hard to cope without. He decided to leave out the truly grisly details, not wanting to remember them himself.

She simply stared at him, listening, with no emotion. He recounted how Templars would watch from the shadows, always looming over and making sure everyone behaved. He smiled and told how when he was younger he would sneak out at late and read restricted section books, and how each time he was caught... And then he smiled no more. It was that time he learnt quickly the rules were to be kept, or pay the price. When he finished, the two sat in silence once again.

"And yet, you seem to miss it?"

"You miss your old life, do you not?" he asked calmly. She nodded. "When it is all I've ever known, I became comfortable with it. Accepted. Now… it is hard, but it seems I'm learning."

"That, I can understand." She nodded.

Dorian soon realized how late the night was getting, and it was his turn on watch. He thanked Morrigan for speaking with him and wished her a nice night.

"Wait…" he paused and turned to her. "Should you ever… wish to do this again… It would not be, unwelcomed… Maybe next time I can tell more of Flemeth, and maybe even show you some...Spells?" She didn't make eye contact.

"I would very much enjoy that." He smiled and left for his post.

Along the way he noticed Sten had fallen asleep beside the fire, with Spirit curled close by. Dorian grinned at the rather sweet sight. Leliana was practicing shots on a nearby tree, and Shale stood close to the clearing entrance.

"Evening Shale." He greeted.

"What is It doing here? I told It I would stand guard on my own from now on."

"I thought you might like to… relax? Or just enjoy yourself or, something?" he tripped over his words.

"I rather enjoy watching It fling It's sword about while it watches for darkspawn. It is rather amusing." He could swear the Gollum was smiling.

"I thought I was getting rather good at it… You sure you're not just leering at me?"

Since he learned Shale was in fact originally a woman, he enjoyed teasing her. It seemed easier than with the others, probably because she was made of stone and lacked facial expression. Although, being made of stone should have deterred him from teasing, for fear of her famous 'squishing'. It didn't seem to bother her though.

"Uh, I have already informed It, I do not desire It's squishy body."

"My wounded heart…" he laughed.

"To be honest, I prefer to stand watch. Allows me time to… think. I also do not require sleep, so at least I have purpose."

"Let me join you then? At least until you tire of watching me 'fling' my sword around?"

"Yes, that would be acceptable."

And so Dorian began practicing. Shale faced off into the distance, but he was sure she was somehow still watching. As he suspected, he was getting better. Sten had even said soon he would battle and test Dorian's skills. Several times the mage had wielded both staff and the small sword Sten gave him. He did rather well, although fought better when lighting the blade on fire. He seemed to kill more darkspawn that way. He suddenly felt someone standing beside him.

"Hey Bud, care to spar?" Alistair grinned.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that…" the mage mumbled.

"Sure you are! I saw you take down those Shades easily, although, you've had practice with that… but still, those demons didn't know what hit them!"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"And those darkspawn were all 'aaah my face is on fire, and I have a sword in my gut! Uhhh!"

"That is _exactly _what darkspawn say, don't they?"

"Exactly!" he readied his sword.

Dorian did the same. Alistair gently, yet with accuracy swung his blade. Dorian blocked it. Soon, the two began a slow dance, exchanging attacks on one and other. Dorian tried to remain focused, while Alistair continued to converse.

"So, before we've been to Redcliffe, I think we should help that guy out with taking back the Warden's keep. It's not far and… it just feels right. Duncan made a Warden's oath to do so…"

"But we have been meaning to o there for some time." Dorian blocked.

"I know… I just think Duncan would have wanted this. I checked the map and Bodan knows a short cut, it should only be a day's journey back."

"I thought you wanted to get there as soon as possible…" Dorian swung.

"Yeah, but the guy seems really desperate. And I mean, it might be useful to learn more on the Grey Warden's in Ferelden. Who knows, might find some allies there." Alistair blocked. "Plus, a few more days won't hurt." He swung.

"I guess, just hoping it won't take too long. We still have a lot of other places to go." Dorian blocked this time.

"It'll be fine. Tell you what, I'll head up to Redcliffe as soon as daybreaks, maybe take someone with me. I'll see what the situation is?"

"I can go with It." Shale said over her shoulder.

"See? Perfect plan."

"Yeah, alright. With Bodan's shortcut there may be a good chance we can beat you to Redcliffe. Granted, only if I don't have to fight another possessed cat…"

"Yeah… that was creepy…"

The two sparred for a good time, occasionally Dorian lost footing, but soon was able to gain control once more. The slow pace had rapidly become more aggressive, even Dorian had moments when he had the upper hand. Soon though, Dorian yawned.

"Well done, you have really been paying attention. I'd say you would have given Duncan a run for his…"

Alistair grew heavy with the words. Dorian, knowing not what to say, placed a hand on his companions shoulder and smiled. Alistair smiled and nodded, then returned to practicing with his blade. Dorian headed to his tent.

Leliana had already retired, Dorian was grateful for it. He had attempted often to avoid speaking one on one with her since his… outburst. She had apparently never received the message. Since that night, she would speak with him often, every chance they had alone she would speak a little more with him. In fact, she claimed how guilty she felt for him sharing so deeply. In return she shared many secrets.

She spoke of the death of her mother, a sad and yet hard to remember time. She was very young, Dorian related to this part of her past. Not that he wanted to, but he couldn't recall what his mother looked like either. She did however, remember her smell, flowers like Leliana herself. She spoke of her guardian, a kind noblewoman who paid for Leliana to be taught the finer things. How she spent most of her life with this woman, and was pained when she passed at a ripe age.

She spoke about her professions, being both a Minstrel and a Bard. Dorian listened politely and asked questions often. He had in fact, appreciated what Leliana was trying to do. It was obvious she wanted him to let his guard down. Though, he was not quite sure how. Last time was an accident. And a rather big one at that.

"She speaks rather fondly of you, my dear Warden." The voice startled Dorian a little.

"Sorry, what did you say Zevran? I was… um…"

"Staring longingly at Leliana's tent? Contemplating your burning desire for the beautiful temptress... oh how you want to caress-"

"NO! That's not, what I-I, um! I was just remembering one of her stories…"the mages face near lit on fire.

"Uh-huh…" Zevran raised an eyebrow. "I am merely teasing my friend, although…" he winked. "As I said though, she speaks fondly of you. She thinks you as a dear friend. She is also very grateful for the various Chantry gifts you leave by her pack."

"She… knows?"

"That it was you? Hah, my friend we are all aware who the present fairy is. I thank you also for the various shinnies you have left me. They look very nice across my armor." He grinned.

"You-you are welcome…"

"As I was saying, we had a nice… chat about you. Nothing you need be worried about, I just asked if you are always so… cranky. You hardly smile and seem like you want to always be left alone. She, rather in-depth, explained how when she joined you were a rather shy man. Almost, adorable. Now, you seem stressed and always deep in thought. But, you have also opened up and let your guard down, just a tiny bit. But still quite adorable."

"A-adorable?" he stuttered.

"Si, adorable. It is not uncommon for the ladies to find shy men 'cute'. I do not mind a shy, quiet, handsome fella myself." Zevran winked causing Dorian to blush further. "But, alas, I think the competition has already won the princely man's favor. Although, I can enjoy the display, yes?"

"I-I am sorry, but… I have no clue what you are talking about?"

"Ha-ha, I thought as much. Never mind me, I am just an old gossip." Zevran rose and glanced over to Morrigan's tent. "Hmmm, perhaps my attention should lay… elsewhere. Sleep tight, Twitchy…"

"Oh Maker…" Dorian smacked his face into his palms.

Zevran laughed as he wandered over to the distance. Dorian was filled with various thoughts. One, he was very unsure what the elf rambled over. Two, he was certain Zevran would be slapped by a very offended witch that evening. And three, that nickname was going to be the death of Dorian.

_You wanted friends…_

_Is that what they are?_

_I… I'm not sure, what else could they be?_

Shaking his head, he smiled at Leliana's tent. The word adorable played over in his mind. Uncertain what to make of it. Crawling into his tent, he noticed something shining up at him. It was a little silver box with a note. It read;

_Thank you, for everything. _

_These should make writing easier, less ink, less mess. An Orelsian invention, I am rather proud to have found some. Enjoy._

_-L_

He smiled wide-eyed at the box, he never received a gift before. Once from Jowan, but it was another copy of the Chant of Light. Hardly counted as thoughtful, considering Jowan knew he owned four already. He opened the lid and studied the contents.

Six little wooden sticks were laid flat side by side. He picked one up and studied it. One of the ends was sharpened, like a spear. The point had a funny little black spike. He had heard rumors such an invention existed, but the Circle never supplied any. With great enthusiasm, he pulled his journal out and began scrawling on a clear page. The mark didn't run or smudge. It was ingenious.

He knew he should record the day's events, but was too enthusiastic to focus. He decided to draw something, he hadn't enjoyed that in a while. He racked his brain for inspiration. Suddenly, a memory came to him. Something Leliana had shared with him. Grinning, he began to sketch in detail the dainty petals of a flower he had only seen in books.

He remembered in great detail the image. Thin stem, small leaves. White large petals, pointed at the tips. The outside had a yellowish coloration, and closer to the middle a reddish pink. Since all he had to work with was black, he shaded faintly on different areas. Soon enough, the flower was complete. It was nowhere near as spectacular, but was a colorless version no less. In the bottom corner he opted to write his own note.

_Thank you, for everything._

_More than you can imagine._

_-Bright Eyes_

He smirked at the name, he knew that would give her a good laugh. Placing it gently on his pack, he would sneak it in her bag while she wasn't looking during breakfast. Grinning from ear to ear, he spent a good long time drawing with his new gift. He drew everything, from his Mabari, to swords, plants, and even a brief moment drawing a song bird. A nightingale.

**Authors Notes:**

**Normally Zevran doesn't join the group so early, but in my run-through he always popped up after one storyline mission. This may not be the case for other players, but it happened in mine and this is based off events from said play through.**


	7. Cracks

**Authors Notes:**

**The line break represents a different characters perspective. **

_Chapter seven: Cracks_

"Why are we doing this?" Morrigan near shouted, it was clear she was far from approving. "It is unimportant and plain wasteful!"

"Because the Warden's made an oath to Levi to help him." Dorian smiled in reply. He continued to walk, not wanting to waste time with a debate. They were so close, he didn't see the need to repeat a discussion the two had been having since they left.

Ever since the two had shared the evening speaking, he found it hard to take her attitude changes to heart. She had even admitted that like him, found politeness a puzzle. Difference was, Dorian always held being polite in mind, where she never considered it. He always assumed that was why she acted as such.

"It is because the oaf suggested it? Yes? He wants to play leader and you are allowing it."

"No Morrigan, that is not the case. I had considered this well before Alistair agreed." It was the truth, since becoming a Warden his sense of code had grown rapidly. Which annoyed him.

"Good, I had worried you were softening once more." She couldn't help but smirk.

"Take one step forward, then turn and run? Me, never." He lightly chuckled.

"Very well." She sighed. "But don't say I did not warn you. Do not forget to test what I taught you battle." With that she walked ahead.

Dorian had been rather surprised when Morrigan approached him at breakfast a day ago, rather rudely interrupting Zevran and Leliana speaking with him. He couldn't even recall what they were talking about, swords, or maybe instruments. It didn't matter, he was truly excited. Within a few minutes, slowly but surely following all of Morrigan's instructions, he successfully turned into a wolf. Much to the astonishment of those watching, as well as Morrigan herself. It felt strange, amazing, but strange.

"_You truly are a fast learner. Twas not easy to do what you just accomplished…." Her face was priceless. "But, not all shape changers have the luxury of dark spawn taint to enhance magic."_

"_You never cease to amaze, my dear Warden." Zevran clapped. "Talented and handsome."_

"_Ignore the fool! Focus! To transform into other bodies, you need only repeat what I showed you, but picture that creature you wish to be. Think like them, feel like them, be them…"_

It had all seemed so simple, which is probably why Morrigan was both astounded and resentful.

"It's rather odd." A feathery voice spoke to Dorian's right. Jumping him out of his triumphant memory.

"Sorry, what was that Leliana?" he was getting used to being able to speak without tripping over his words. He often found speaking with the bard caused that.

"I was just thinking aloud. She seems to become someone else with you around. Ever since you took the time for her." Her voice was warm. "I tried to be friendly to her when we first met, she called me a Chantry shrew and threatened to set my hair on fire… But you, something is different."

He shrugged, not really sure what to say.

"It might be because the Sister had commented on the Witch having 'lovely breasts'." Shale interjected from behind. Leliana was visibly blushing.

The Gollum had decided to join Dorian instead of heading to Redcliffe, she changed her mind when Sten had announced he would accompany Alistair. She believed 'one giant' needed to be present with each group. Lest her squishies be hurt.

"I meant it as a compliment…"

Dorian grinned. He liked the new nicknames Shale had come up with for each member, it seemed to spark from the rather embarrassing conversation the others started over Dorian's Seerabas title. Even though she pretty much kept Sten's chosen names; Warden, Witch, Painted Elf. She had fondly named Leliana The Sister. But then, something tweaked in his mind. Curiosity perhaps?

"You commented on her breasts?"

"I-I-uh…" Leliana spluttered. Dorian had to contain his amusement.

_Tables have turned! Ha-ha! _

_But why the sudden embarrassment? _

"Rather an odd thing to say, isn't it?" he was rather serious. Jowan often made inappropriate comments about some of the ladies in the tower, but from what he understood, that was apparently normal. Not truthfully respectful or acceptable, but apparently a common 'guy thing'. He never did it though.

"What do you mean?" Leliana raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem offended.

"It's just… you are a woman? Is it 'normal' for women to compliment such intimate things with each other?" he felt redness touch his cheeks.

"Well, not truthfully. But that depends on what you define by, 'normal'?"

"I-I have only ever heard men say it. Some of the soldiers at Ostagar leered at women in tight armor, men in Lothering shouted such observations at Morrigan when we arrived there… they are lucky she didn't zap them… and well, growing up it was rather secretive to say such things. If a Templar or Enchanter heard you… let's just say you wouldn't be willing to sit for a while…"

Leliana giggled, and even a slight blush could be seen. Dorian was very grateful Zevran was not present, he surely would have teased his innocent ways. Luckily, Zevran decided to follow Alistair. Much to the man's distress. There was clear trust issues there.

"Well, to answer your original question, yes it is a little odd I suppose. But not for the reasons you think." She smiled. Dorian stared ahead trying to listen well. "It is not considered polite to some people, and I suspect Morrigan is one who thinks this. I have always been surrounded by shameless people, so I am used to being honest and open as well."

Dorian nodded, he wondered what that would have been like. It also explained why she simply spoke what came to mind. She continued.

"To compare with what you observed, that is highly improper. I offered a compliment and fashion advice… which accidently turned into an unintentional flirt."

_I think I know what flirting is… that's like courting? Right…. But I'm not certain what courting entails. Isn't that between and man and woman? _

"To shout such profanity is disgraceful, and not at all attractive to the lady in question. A comment among friends can be harmless, as long as nothing hurtful comes from it. And with how you were raised… that certainly answers some questions. But also raises a few more…" she seemed to be staring at Dorian. Uncomfortably.

"Yes well…" he blushed. "That still doesn't answer my question fully… I mean, you are a woman, so why did you say such things?"

Leliana loudly giggled, causing Dorian to glace inquisitively.

"Well… that can be taken in a few ways. Close friends for one, they may say things to each other. Depends on the friendship…" she tried to contain her grin. "Or… it can be taken the same way a man does when he says such things…"

"What do you…" he thought for a moment. Relationships and everything in between were as foreign to Dorian as Antiva was far away.

"That a woman can feel attracted to another woman. Sometimes this is not considered normal, but that is a rather closed way to think, I believe." She smiled. Dorian could have melted away, this conversation was both confusing and nerve racking. But Leliana remained calm and even smiled.

"You mean you…?"

"Yes." She smiled again. "I think beauty is beauty, love is love, and passion is passion. There doesn't need to be boundaries between two people, just because they are man or woman."

Dorian felt like his head was going to explode. Suddenly, there was a whole new level he was not understanding. He couldn't understand friendships, let alone romances. Now it appeared they were even more complicated. People seemed very private about those things in the Circle, the only experience he had to go on was Jowan being rude, and rumors an apprentice was sleeping with a Templar. Not a lot to go on.

"Are many people… this way?" he tried not to sound crude, he wasn't disturbed, more intrigued.

"Well, some people. Not many are as open as Zevran is, or even I for a matter. A lot of people hide their feelings for fear of being hated. It is sad some places frown upon such things." She shook her head.

"Wait… Zevran?" another obvious thing missed.

"Come now… I can understand not noticing me, I do not leer at every woman I walk by. But Zevran, he openly admits he would bed someone with two legs and a nice face. I have heard him make such comments to you…"

Dorian thought back, he simply thought it was just the elf's way of being friendly. Although, he did feel a little uncomfortable when Zevran offered to 'keep his bed warm'. But wasn't sure why, this might have been it.

"I didn't realize… I don't really have experience. The Circle, people keep their feelings to themselves, no one says such things to each other. That I am aware of."

"I think Zevran will be saddened you are losing the innocent demeanor."

"Why does everyone call me such things…" he grumbled.

"Because you give off that type of persona." She smiled warmly. "But, if you don't mind me asking, what do you not have experience with?"

"Everything." He shrugged.

And there it was. The answer too many unspoken questions. Leliana nearly stopped dead in her tracks, she hadn't realized but she'd been staring. She had to mentally slap herself out of it. He had trusted her once more with a very intimate fact, it would not do well for her if she frightened him. So on they walked in silence for a time.

Since joining the man she had studied him from afar. There seemed to be many sides to the man she had come to trust.

The leader, resilient and yet dutiful, it was obvious he never wanted to be in charge and yet kept his head held high and tried his damn best. Which was getting all the more inspiring each day.

The warrior, dangerous and yet careful. She knew the moment she watched him fight in the Lothering tavern he had near to no experience, but was still a skilled mage. Despite the obvious terror he had, he hid it well, to an untrained eye it would not be easy to notice. His determination to become greater was always a marvel, even by taking up sword play. He had even come to be rather good at it.

The scholar, wise and silent. Often she noticed him tucked away at camp, nose buried deep in a book of some sort. She was aware that whenever he asked for her to tell a story he knew exactly what he was expecting, she could see it in his eyes. But he never seemed to tire or correct her imagination, which was flattering. This side she also found the most interesting. He always seemed so full of answers, even though often he remained silent. Like his mind constantly ticked by.

The artist, skilled and modest. She knew he had found a simple pleasure in drawing things, often she noticed him studying a cluster of stars and drawing whatever image came to mind. She knew he was talented, she realized this the moment she found the beautiful drawing on her bedroll before leaving the others. A thank you note attached, with her cute nickname added. She was glad her gift was appreciated.

The heart. That was pretty self-explanatory. No matter what, he seemed gentle and sweet. Even though he tried to hide it, everyone knew he was probably the kindest person alive. The others often discussed the various gifts he left by their areas each day. Leliana was indeed grateful for the Chantry trinkets he always left her, a necklace in particular she wore all the time now. A sword of mercy. She knew he did not think greatly of the Chantry, she couldn't blame him, but the thought was sweet no less.

There were many other sides she had yet to understand. The child, playful and excited, this was rare to see. On occasion he would share in jokes, or play tag with Spirit, or get giddy when he found something obviously fascinating. He practically squealed with delight when he found pure Ironbark.

But one side she had yet to crack, was his darker side. She got a quick glimpse upon meeting him, the pure hate radiating from his presence at the men threatening his company. Often in battle, especially with darkspawn his whole body seemed to shift. Warped into an energy of pure hate. That was probably the side he hide the most, but once again it slipped through the cracks when he spoke of his family. This was also the side she sometimes feared. Bottled up hate was never healthy.

That night he spoke of his family, she felt more than curious of the mage. Not pity, but a longing. Something made her want to hold his hand each day just to remind him he was not alone. But, that would not be a smart action to the introvert man. He was deeply lonely, but tried to ignore it. She could see from the start he itched to join in and laugh and let go, but struggled. A side… she connected with.

She couldn't help but study him as they walked. He had noticed, and quickly and awkwardly sped up, blushing as he did so.

_He really is adorable when he wants to be._

She stopped that thought as soon as it arrived. Lately she was thinking it far too much over her leader. Something about him though, she couldn't seem to help staring.

There were many things actually. All the different sides he showed, all seemed to make some kind of magical person. She laughed at the unintended pun.

_Magic. Mage. Clever Leliana. _

He was kind, gentle and sweet. But also brave, he wouldn't admit it but he was, and honorable. He didn't seem to judge anything. Sten, whom everyone assumed no more than a savage, had actually seemed to accept him as a leader. He even chose to teach the mage skills. All because he simply listened and asked the right questions. Morrigan, a cruel and untrusting person had even allowed him close. Why? Because he didn't ask anything of her, just accepted. Alistair obviously liked him, it was clear the two were very similar people. With one difference, Alistair not only feared what he didn't understand, he resented it. Due to being a Templar recruit Leliana presumed. She thought it was odd how the two had become friends, history considering. It was possibly a friendship forever bound by the Wardens. And Shale, well, Dorian had somehow gained instant friendship with the rock giant. That, was a rather big mystery.

She couldn't even begin to understand the bond he felt with Spirit. He never treated him as a pet, but as a fellow companion. He never tried to control the dog, but still the hound followed him with his eyes always. Protecting his master.

The Warden just gave off a feeling of trust and safety. Warmth even. Which was odd, because when she met him she thought instantly he was a very cold, shut off person.

Despite being nervous and fidgety, people seemed to respect him. They would listen, and even understand. If they didn't, he was still willing to go beyond the call of duty to help them.

Leliana had assumed after Dorian learned about Zevran and her taste in affection, he would have acted oddly towards them both. But he didn't even bat an eyelash about it, was a little confused, but intrigued mostly. It didn't seem to be the fact that Leliana also liked women that confused him, but that there was so much he didn't know about feelings in general. That something like this even existed. He was deprived of more than she could possibly understand. His knowledge on love and friendship seemed to be those written in over dramatic stories.

And that's what made it all come together. Dorian never had anyone. He spoke of Jowan on occasion, either with affection or poison in his tone. She had assumed he spoke of him only, because there was some romantic history between them. She would not have been any more wrong. He didn't speak of Jowan because he was his lover, but because Jowan was truly all he had in his life. He didn't have anyone else. He really was alone.

She wondered why that was, it made no sense. Surely woman and men would have found him worthy to peruse. There were his many amazing and mysterious qualities. Even the fact he often lit up, was rather interesting. Drawing people in somehow and appealing to their curiosity. Even if love had been forbidden in the tower, surely secret rendezvous happened all the time. Why not with him?

And then there was his appearance as well. He was in fact, rather handsome. He wasn't what she usually went for, normally well groomed and overly confident people. But Dorian was princely in nature. Better than that, he was unique.

He wasn't rippling with muscles, but he wasn't lacking either. The night he attempted to change in front of the fire, she definitely had a peek. The temptation was to compelling. He was very white, creamy, soft to touch she assumed. He had small muscles, hidden away under his baggy clothes. Which she thought was a shame, since he was rather nice to look at. There was even a tiny hint of black chest hair.

_Very manly._

Was all she thought as she stared intently at it. He struggled to pull his shirt on quickly, which she couldn't help but silently chuckle at. Even his unruly crazed black hair was charming in its own way. Kooky and strange, kind of like him. And since he his new growing unshaven look was very appealing. Very.

All of it seemed to compel to her. His gentle, flower like nature, but also the fiery side buried deep. All of it was intriguing. Even his sweet, innocence was captivating. She had not once caught him ogling a woman, or man, sometimes she noticed him admiring someone doing a good deed. But that wasn't much to go on. Sometimes she swore he was admiring her, but also thought it could have been her overactive imagination.

Her eyes couldn't help but glance to him once more. He was now laughing with Shale. The two seemed like the best of friends, this made her grin. He deserved more people to call a friend. He helped the Gollum learn who she was, and was still swearing to give her a purpose. Beyond nobility, his heart was.

_Maybe… if I shared with him my darkest secret, he would not judge me. He certainly hasn't yet. _

_But, you lied to him. He doesn't like having his trust broken… _

_But he cares about me…. _

_Does he?_

_I think he does…_

_You think, or you hope?_

She was visibly ogling him now. Her eyes couldn't help but wander over his back, remembering how smooth his skin must have felt. She noticed Dorian rolled his sleeves up, he did that often. But then she noticed something she never had before.

_How did I miss that? Perhaps because my eyes are often elsewhere. Must stop doing that… _

His left hand was visible, in the center of his palm, was a very large reddish scar. It was clearly a burn, warped by the years. How he hid it so well for so long, she would never understand. But then, she knew all too well about scars people hide. In more ways than one.

"We're here!" Levi shouted ahead, excitement in his voice. Leliana silently cursed him for breaking her train of thought.

Dorian took in the view. Along the mountainside, a large and strong fort stood proud. It was clearly in ruins, but still sturdy enough he'd dare say darkspawn would have a hard time to break through. That was idea he guessed.

In order to reach the gates they had to travel through a short tunnel, he groaned at that. He hated the darkness. Going into the ruins with Shale was hard enough. As if the Gollum sensed his terror, she lit her crystals brightly, without a word. He silently thanked her.

Following Levi, he scratched his hand in contemplation. The scar was itching like crazy. He hadn't taken a vial of lyrium in a while and left the supplies with Bodan. He would be unable to mask the mark with magic. Sadly the last trace of lyrium left his body, revealing the mark once more. He knew he should have kept it covered, but the fabric was irritating it. His robe was covered in blood and was falling apart. Soon enough it would be no good. Leliana offered to fix it, but he didn't want to be a burden. Besides, no amount of sewing would bring back the magic that was fading in the fireproof robe.

He thought of Leliana then. What she had said. How truly… nice, it all sounded. He never thought it unnatural or strange, love was love. He envied that.

_I wonder what she sees in the certain people she likes though._

…_Why…?_

He didn't know why he wondered that. It wasn't' his place. He contemplated what he would like in someone.

_Kind. Gentle. Friendly. Talkative-makes it easier if I just have to listen. Perhaps similar interests? Or doesn't get bored when I speak, mostly. Willing to help others. Not sure what else…_

_Sounding familiar…?_

_Shut up._

Dorian stopped thinking on that, before his little voice caused him to blush. He had appreciated that she explained it all to him though, and felt a complete fool for just staring like she spoke in Qunlat. He probably shouldn't have admitted to not having an understanding in the topic, but he wasn't ashamed. A little embarrassed and lonesome, but not ashamed. He was very grateful she said nothing to him about it. That was not a topic he wanted to discuss. He already cried like a fool and told very personal things on spur of the moment. There wasn't much else left to tell her, the floodgates had apparently been opened that night. Well, there was other secrets. But he wasn't quite that ready yet.

Finally, the sun light was rising out of the tunnel. Levi ran full speed to the entrance, Spirit followed.

_Not sure who is more the puppy…_

"Uh oh!" he heard Levi's voice echo through the tunnel to them. "We've got trouble Ser Warden!"

"Of course we do, this would all have been overly easy otherwise…" Dorian muttered.

"I hope we get to squish things."

"For you, I hope we do also." He never felt creeped when she said such things, it was just her way. He knew he was safe and those he traveled with.

"The Mage is to kind to me."

"Hang back a little until I give the word though, in case it's nothing."

"Very well…" she sighed.

"No attacking, unless my orders." He said loud enough for the others to hear.

Leaving the tunnel, the group saw what the commotion was. A large crowd of people with torches gathered outside the gates, yelling and throwing rocks. Dorian sighed and stepped up to investigate. He realized what the utter cliché this appeared to be.

"What seems to be the trouble?" he spoke kindly with a smile to a woman wearing Chantry robes. He liked to avoid speaking with religious represents, apart from Leliana, but she seemed to be in charge. The woman turned and her look was of absolute horror, taking in his staff and robes.

"Maleficar!"

Dorian's face went ghostly. He could not believe the words had left her mouth, he had hoped his imagination was being cruel. He could sense his teams posture stiffen as well.

"S-sorry?" he managed to say. The woman backed away from him, and began alerting her followers.

"Here, faithful, is the cause of our troubles! Your homes are being haunted by spirits and demons, and here we find an Apostate! Coincidence, I believe not! The Maker smiles on us!" she spat.

"Th-there had been a misunderstanding… I am…"

"An Apostate! And no doubt the one conjuring the demons, while else would you be here!" The group backed away slowly, the Sister did not. "Fear him not, the Maker protects us!"

Both Morrigan and Leliana made a remark; Morrigan daring she say more, and Leliana employing her to see reason. Dorian just stared.

"I-I am a Grey Warden. I have come to reclaim my orders keep… that is all. I have no idea what you are talking about."

This time a man stepped out from behind the Sister. Her words, and possibly his reaction was reassuring the groups growing urge to attack. He was large, and surly looking with balding hair. He had a rather large axe with him.

"My farm has been plagued with damned spirits for years now! We've had enough! I will burn this damned building down, and I'll burn you sorcerer!"

Dorian felt his body shiver. But he was not afraid, something else stirred in him. One by one the people of the mob shouted threats and taunts, titles and labels. He couldn't help but stare wide-eyed. His companions did not move, unsure what their lead wanted and not daring to break command. They to, just stared wide-eyed. Spirit growled protectively.

"Demon!" an elderly woman called him.

"Abomination!" was another.

"Monster!"

"Accident!" came another.

"Curse!"

He wasn't even sure if the names they called were what he heard. It didn't feel like it, something felt wrong. Something was coming alive, something he thought long dead. A memory flashed before his eyes.

…

_He was in a courtyard, wide and open. He was back in his childhood home. Only, the trees and outside walls were badly darkened by ash. A fire. _

_Small, bright eyed and dressed in his best clothes, Dorian stood shaking. Only, they weren't his best clothes anymore. They were torn and burnt. His hand itched. A tiny burn mark was center in his palm, where the fire started._

_He was surrounded by people, some he remembered, some he didn't. His parents, were among them. A woman, tall, lean and with long blonde hair shook her head, screaming in disgust. A man, short with slick black locks shouted and shoved Dorian. The other faces blurred in his vision. The woman, pink flesh and seemingly beautiful was twisted in what he thought was hate. The man, he could not see through the thick beard and moustache, but a visible snarl could be spotted across all of Thedas. _

_Dorian's eyes watered. None cared._

"_He is a monster, Revka!" the man screamed. "He nearly burned the estate down! With us inside!"_

"_You don't think I didn't see what happened, you fool!"_

"_Mumma… I…" Dorian whimpered._

"_Shut it!" with a quick flick, the man sent his boy stumbling backwards slightly. He held his little cheek, tears watering his face._

_Dorian could feel the heat in his hands once more. He pushed it away, like he always did. Until that day._

"_Do not, you are making a scene!" an elderly woman cried desperately. "What will the neighbors think if they hear you?"_

"_Mother, to the void with the neighbors! And Antwan, if you lay a hand on that boy again so help me I'll…" a kinder voice spoke, fiery and fierce._

"_You'll what Leandra! Know your place woman!" his father spat._

"_Watch what you say to my daughter Antwan!" a darker voice boomed. "Leandra, leave us. This is not a matter for you to concern yourself with."_

_Cursing and a loud door slam was heard. Dorian continued to cry. _

"_What we need to figure out is what happens with the boy." Someone said, Dorian was unsure who. Suddenly the adults chattered and argued amongst themselves. _

_Dorian rambled apologies and pleas, cries and begs. They acted as if he was no longer present. In their eyes, they probably thought he wasn't. _

"_No! I will not have that boy rub my name in the dirt! I married into your cursed family, and now you risk dragging my name through the Void as well!" _

"_Well what do you want from me Antwan!" the elderly man shouted. _

"_Nothing! What in the name of Andraste can you do? Your bleeding family has done enough!"_

"_He can't stay here, no, he needs to go to the Circle…" Dorian's mother rambled. Her face was glassed over, she looked around hopelessly. Something inside her broke. She spoke as if Dorian had died instead of wielded magic. Perhaps, to her he had died._

"_Well that is obvious fool woman!" his father spat. "But not here! No, he needs to get out of Kirkwall! We'll say he ran away, or something!"_

"_You think Meredith will allow this, with the Templars under her thumb now, we have no power anymore! She has cleaned all the mess up the last Commander left behind, and she hasn't even been given the blighted job yet!"_

"_Nothing money can't handle. And lyrium. A few rogue Templars is all it takes!"_

_A gasp from both the elderly Amell's could be heard._

"_You would risk your own son…" the woman shuddered. Dorian was curled on the ground now. Shaking violently._

"_He is not my son!"_

…

Dorian was brought back to the present, though he felt not much had changed. Because he had not reacted, the people drew closer, shouting more hate and threats. Shale began itching to step forward from the shadows, but waited nonetheless for her leader's commands. Dorian had to say something, he had to. Or unnecessary blood would be shed.

"Please I-" but before he could speak, something flew through the air. With a loud thud, it collided with Dorian's face. He stumbled back, hand clung to his eye. He felt a tingling all over, someone had casted a shield, Morrigan he presumed. Blood was dripping from above his eye. He stared at his hand. He could hear his comrades breaking silence.

"How dare you, you disgusting little idiot!" Morrigan spat. "Twas beyond _foolish_ to do that!" she raised her staff, her voice had an actual snarl to it.

The villager's immediately backed up. Realizing perhaps they accused an unworthy mage. Dorian lifted his hand swiftly before anyone could react further. Morrigan paused, only slightly and studied him. Leliana stepped forward, ignoring her leader's obvious instruction. Dorian did not notice, he still looked at the blood. He did not feel unwell, but something else was pulling him. Something dark. He wanted to succumb... He itched to.

"How dare you!" the bard shouted. A noise Dorian never heard before. "This _man _has come to save all our lives from the Blight! And you do this?" she turned, bow in hand, pointing to the Sister. "How dare you claim to follow the Maker…"

"_**ENOUGH**_!" the voice carried over the crowd, and further through the mountains.

Dorian was visibly shaking. Leliana backed away.

Snapping his head up, he glared at the villagers. Body trembling, he could feel it. The hate, the rage… the taint. His suppressed anger was what fueled it, and now it had been tapped unwillingly. He could feel the burning, he wasn't sure if it was the taint or his own inner fire. Either way, the villagers gasped at the sight. He hoped he was glowing, oh how he hoped.

"I will say this once," he stepped forward, the people frozen to the ground. "And if you inbred bastards do not understand I will tear each of your heads off with my bear hands!" not a sound. "You will leave here, and will not return until you are _**certain**_I am not. You will return to your pathetic lives, and you will remember!" he clenched his fists, they had been lit on fire.

"When a bandit kills and violates your wives and daughters, remember who you all chose to hate! When slavers take your children, remember who you feared! When the lords strip you of your lands and rights, remember who you threatened! When darkspawn tear into your lands, massacre you and all you love, remember who you chose to _**murder**_!"

Not one sound escaped anyone. Not even a breath was taken. They all stared, even his friends, with fear.

"Remember it was _**my**_ people! The mages you fear to be the root of all corruption! The Mages snatched from their lives to serve _**your**_ God! Children, elves, humans,_** innocents**_! Burned, tortured, persecuted! All in the name of _**protecting**_ you from _**us**_! You all wonder why the Dalish kill you on sight. You wonder why city elves rebel and attack your homes. You wonder why mages resort to blood magic. It is because of you! You are the corruption in this world, not I!" he stepped forward, close to the Sister, face to face. He no longer felt logic or appealing in his words. Only venom

"When you look into my eyes, do you see your precious Maker? No, that is because he doesn't _**exist**_!"

A sudden shiver could be felt among all of the people. Morrigan was shaking with what appeared to be rage, Shale had almost a sickening look of, pride? And Leliana, well not even her face explained all the emotions running through her. Spirit remained collected, not breaking his eyes from the mob. With a wave of the mages fired hand, the entire crowd scurried away. Like vermin.

Leaving Dorian standing there, cooling down. He could feel his body physically calm, but mentally he was still prepared to torch everyone he saw. Without looking to anyone, he began walking, a harsh tone could be heard over his shoulders.

"Lead on, Levi."

With that, the others stood for a moment. Completely unsure what to make of that entire display. Leliana, felt a heavy weight on her heart.

Dorian did not look back to see if they were following. Only his hound walked beside him.

"Sorry boy…" he mumbled with saddened eyes to his friend. "You shouldn't have seen that…" the dog simply wined and licked his master's hand. Loyal, no matter what.


	8. Forbidden Magic

_Chapter eight: Forbidden Magic_

Dorian barely stopped to think, or even breathe for that matter. He blocked all thoughts from his mind. He was nearly unaware he was still traveling with people. What did stop him though, was not the sight on the fort, but what spread across the ground.

It was blanketed in white snow. Everywhere, covered in thick cold snow. He stopped a moment, and stared to his feet. They seemed to collapse the substance upon touch. Kneeling down, he gently caressed the surface. The feeling sent shivers up his hands. He never usually felt the cold, but the snow he could feel even through his unnatural body temperature. He couldn't help but smile, it was amazing.

He wished he'd noticed it sooner, but he dared not think. It was a little heartbreaking, his first encounter with snow would be tainted by what happened several moments earlier.

Sticking his hand deep into the snow, he cupped a large amount and lifted it to his eyes. Quickly, the snow melted away and turned to water. His blasted fire was ruining this for him.

On rare chances he was able to successfully freeze something. All mages in the Circle were taught control over all elements, but frost was the hardest for Dorian. Due to his natural fire ability, it took absolute focus to completely freeze something, even then it never seemed to last, so unless quick to act it was ineffective.

Closing his eyes, he tried to dull his inner fire. He let the cold fill his hands, wave over him and onto the water. He felt the cool tingling on his fingertips. He didn't feel warm, but completely and absolutely cold. Irving often said elemental abilities were more effective when surrounded by the element in question.

Opening his eyes, he saw the water in his palms change. He watched in amazement as the water frosted over. At first, it was soft and mushy like the snow, but it quickly hardened. His face, was of pure astonishment. A little light twinkled in his eyes as he stared at his hand. This was something he never thought possible, he felt truly happy.

"And… here we are! Soldier's Peak!" Levi's voice boomed inside Dorian's head. Immediately breaking his trance. "Maker's breath, look at the size of her. What a fortress…"

Dorian jumped up and walked over the man admiring the large castle. Since entering the gates, the place truly was a sight. The closer and closer they got, it was easy to see why people believed it haunted. Dorian felt uneasy looking at it, something wasn't right.

"I told you the map would get us through the tunnels." Levi smiled widely at Dorian, but a hint of fear still remained.

"Yes… you did." He wanted to remind him what he endured for this man, but held his tongue. Then he thought something rather odd. "Andraste's blood, how did you find that path on your own?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Just tell me." Dorian's annoyed feeling was rising again. The place was putting him on edge once more.

"It came to me in my dreams…"

_Oh Maker, here we go… What is with everyone and not getting decent sleep?_

"When I was a lad, I tried going through the tunnel by myself. Got horribly lost. But every now and again sine, I've dreamt of it."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't want you to think I was some moon-addled simpleton."

"We wouldn't have thought that…" Leliana chirped. Dorian nearly froze on the spot, he forgot she was even traveling with them. She was unusually quiet.

"I've my wits about me. But enough of that." Levi waved them off. "I'll follow you. From a distance. This place has the stench of death. I expect trouble ahead…" with that the man walked on, but slowed enough to let the others lead.

Dorian couldn't agree more. He suspected the others did as well. Something about the place seemed rather eerie and unnatural.

"There is more than death in the air…" came the sultry voice he knew all too well. She was walking rather closely beside him.

"You feel it?" Dorian turned to her. She nodded. "It's as if the Fade itself is inside those walls… the veil… I think it has been disrupted here."

"Agreed." The two mages studied the fort as they drew closer. "I am to thank you, by the way."

"For?" Dorian glanced sideways to Morrigan, who looked onward.

"For saying the truth. Those buffoons deserved worse, but at least you put fear inside them. Twas amusing watching them soil themselves. Perhaps, they will think before approaching another mage."

"Or perhaps they will condemn them even more…" he muttered. As soon as the words left him, he felt shame. He was only proving them right, not fighting the cause. He let his anger get the better of him.

"No matter what, people fear the powerful. And they should. You are an example of that."

Dorian wanted more than anything to scream at her. He did not want to be the reason mages were feared, why else did he try so hard to help others otherwise. He went out of his way to show people there was goodness in magic, and still it was worthless attempts. Since that day in Lothering, he wanted to prove nothing more that the world was wrong. So one day every mage might be able to live freely. Instead of arguing he locked his jaw and pressed on.

They reached another large gate, this one was open. Shale grumbled she would have liked to break another wall down. Stepping inside the gates, Dorian felt the overwhelming presence of the Fade wave over him. He stopped dead in his tracks. Something, was speaking to him.

Suddenly, soldiers appeared. They were attempting to bring the keep down. Shouting and commands echoed in his ears. This was not happening, or at least, not right then. Dorian stared, uncertain if his eyes deceived him.

The others began questioning their sight also, Dorian ignored them. Levi attempted to speak with him, but the mage simply walked on. The longer he stayed there, the more certain he was going mad. Suddenly, he felt the Fade shift. Something was entering through the tear in the Veil.

Shades and the undead attacked the party. Levi attempted to hide behind Shale while she pummeled the creatures one by one. Dorian led the charge, taking out as many demons as he could. This was a fight he was born to win. Only once was he given a chance to prove so outside the Circle, that was not enough. The demons stood no chance.

They attempted to break his mind as he fought them. He flung his staff with ease, casting different spells at the spirits. Deciding to allow his new enhanced sense of frost wave over, he casted cone of cold above the area. Several undead monsters froze on the spot, allowing Shale to shatter them. The demons whispered his weaknesses, claiming all they wanted was to save him. He growled at the lies and killed them all with burning fury.

Finally, they were gone. Grumbling, he placed his staff on his back. He was near completely drained of mana. Luckily he brought his sword with him, meaning he didn't have to rely on magic. With a swift wave of his hand, he casted an arcane spell to both enhance the teams weapons and shield them from magical use. It had pretty much taken the last of his mana, he wobbled on his feet, but stopped from falling. Gentle hands held him up.

Glancing quickly over his shoulders, he saw red hair. Leliana stared up at him, worry deep in her eyes. He steadied himself and turned to her.

"You don't need to do that, it is wasting your energy…" she near begged.

"It will keep you all safe inside." Dorian shrugged.

"Morrigan doesn't need others casting spells on her. Shale is immune to magic. Sprit doesn't carry weapons…" Dorian knew what she was saying. She was blaming herself.

"No, but he is still at risk of possession. As is Levi, and he is certainly unarmed, so he is a great risk. With your bow enchanted you'll be able to strike enemies down with more efficiency." He smiled lightly.

"Ye-yes bu-"

"I am fine. I have Sten's sword, I have enchanted that as well. I have my natural abilities I can rely on, just no more willy-nilly spells flying around. I have enough mana to heal, that is all we need…" Leliana looked ready to protest. "Let's go, we are wasting time, I want to be rid of this place…"

He stormed off, unsure why her sudden concern bothered him. Perhaps because he interpreted it as questioning his strengths. Perhaps the mixture of taint and exposed Fade was setting his teeth on edge. Or maybe, he was still ashamed of his outburst and wished to stew on it. Alone.

Shale broke the doors to the keep down, rather enthusiastically. He was very grateful for having her accompany him instead of Alistair. Once stepping inside, Dorian immediately felt the urge to faint. The feeling of the Fade overwhelmed him once more. The others were effected, Morrigan especially seemed drained. But Dorian was finding it harder to focus.

Once again, voices and presences could be felt. He saw before his eyes, the old order of Warden's prepare for battle. Lead by a tall and proud commander, she spoke inspirationally and seemed to stir the courage in her men. Dorian stared awe inspired, this was what a Warden should be. She stood before her men, dressed in silver and gold, with a mighty sword and shield. A true image of a leader. Soon, the words quieted and the room was still once more.

"So brave, even when starving." Levi disrupted his thoughts once more. This was growing tiresome. "And my great-great grandmother stood with them."

"It sounds like there was greatness in your blood." Dorian said kindly, but with little effort. He was getting beyond drained.

"Oh, well. That's kind of you to say. Generations of Dryden's have said that our stock were lions. Fierce, proud and noble. But I've gabbed enough. Lead on, my friend."

On they walked. Dorian tried to zone everyone out. He noticed Leliana was searching the room for anything useful, he silently thanked her for that. He was losing his grip on reality. As they walked he found it harder and harder to think straight.

Something wasn't right, something had corrupted the air beyond explanation. It wasn't just the Fade. Something told him it was connected somehow with his taint. But he could be sure of nothing.

As soon as the next door opened, Death Syphon's attacked. Dorian fought, with what energy he seemed to muster. Shale took majority of the battle in her stone hands, Dorian was grateful for it.

Quickly, the battle ended. Dorian sluggishly led his party through the fort. Often the team would stumble onto more enemies, Shale and Spirit would lead the attacks. Morrigan and Leliana would strike with spells and arrows from afar, while Dorian did the best he could. He always felt Leliana's eyes fall on him. He never responded to her concerned looks though, he had to try and remain focused.

Reaching the second floor, Dorian felt another overwhelming wave. Morrigan was even visibly slowing. The Fade was strong through there. Normally, the Fade was meant to enhance a mages powers, but for some reason the raw power of it was incredibly overwhelming. Something was wrong. Incredibly wrong, if it was able to drain them like that.

Once more, a vision plagued the room. The Warden Commander was leading defenses against her forts attackers, but sadly the Wardens were quickly falling. She called to a mage to help, he did so, but not what Dorian expected. The mage, Avernus, was conjuring demons. Powerful ones. And the Commander, was encouraging it.

_No, no! This can't be!_

He recalled what Alistair had mentioned to him when he asked why the Warden's didn't test if he was in fact a blood mage upon recruitment. The order did not frown upon it, whatever it takes for victory. He felt a sickening feeling overwhelm him. The Wardens were willing to risk the soul of mage members, just for a chance to succeed. A risk taken only by the mages themselves, but at the command of their leader would do so dutifully.

The demons in the vision then turned on their master and his allies. Dorian knew the moment he saw them this was inevitable. Demons would never be controlled.

"_Fool! So much death, suffering, and, oh yes__**… blood**__!"_ the demons voice sent shivers through Levi and Leliana. Even Dorian felt an eerie sensation. This was no ordinary demon. This was a powerful one, and no doubt one of the causes in the massive Fade disturbance.

The mage, Avernus, fled the scene. He abandoned his allies and left them to the death he promised with his blighted dark magic. The Warden Commander, she remained. Hope for the order was still in Dorian's mind, at least she did not abandon her team. Despite condemning them to a fate worse than death by sword, she had honored the same fate as well for a chance to protect her followers.

Suddenly, the vision faded, and once more they were overwhelmed. Spirits of fallen Warden's attacked the group. Dorian silently thanked a higher power, ghosts would not drain too much from him. The room they seemed to be fighting in was rendering him near powerless. He suspected this was where the tear in the Veil originated. Morrigan's powers seemed to increase, she was no longer being effected by the forces. It was acting as it should with her powers, Dorian worried why it was effecting him so. Again, he associated it with the taint.

Anything bad that happened lately seemed to be involving that blasted curse of a taint.

Morrigan was able to cast frost over the rage demons that quickly emerged from the ground. Thanks to her spell, Shale was able to crush them quickly. Once the battle ended Dorian continued to walk on with purpose, he needed to find whatever was causing this disturbance and end it once and for all. But, he was finding it harder and harder to remain strong. Stubbornly, he fought to let it show.

"The Warden's summoned demons…" Levi caught up to Dorian. Dorian audibly groaned at the sound of his voice. He had grown very tired of the man, no thanks to the mood he was now stuck in. Dorian didn't listen to the rest he had to say, he already thought of a response.

"We must press on." It seemed to sum everything he felt nicely. He hadn't the strength to argue or speak with the man.

"Of course. I'll stop my nattering, then." He said calmly. Dorian had to admire the man's sense of understanding. Another time, he might have liked him.

He felt somewhat bad for being blunt with the man. But, at the present time all he could truly feel was an overpowering heavy feeling. He would have gladly laid down, if given the chance.

…

A lot of what followed in the keep became a blur to Dorian. Often, Leliana would answer Levi's questions on his behalf, or Morrigan would inform Dorian she was searching for useful items. He silently thanked them, he was truly losing his grip on reality the further they walked. Spirit remained constantly at his side, worried for his master.

After stumbling upon a ghoul Commander Dryden, Dorian attempted to converse with the creature. The woman spoke of what occurred in the tower, and her ill-gotten fate. The same fate, Dorian realized, awaited him… the day his taint would consume him, it was possible he too would suffer as she did.

What was left of Sophia Dryden attempted to bargain with Dorian. The mage pitied her, but would not allow anything the ghoul wished. She was no longer a whole human. It would have been cruel to leave her to rot.

Much to Levi's distress, Dorian murdered her. Casting a paralysis spell with what little magic he had left, he swiftly drove his blade through her heart. Even though her eyes no longer contained light, he swore she was grateful. The last foul smelling gasp of air left the husk of a body, and laid still on the cold stone floor.

"Rest easy Commander… Fly free, little bird…" was all he could say as he looked to her. Turning to Levi, he expected an enraged fight, but the man seemed grateful also.

Dorian looked on to what was left of the Commander, something inside him felt heavy. He saw his own future in the brave woman, the curse of taking on the taint. A fallen leader, risked so much just to ensure victory. Dorian was no true leader, but he was starting to understand the risks and responsibilities he now had. His companions trusted with him the fate of the journey, and in following him, their lives as well. Even though he never wanted to be in charge, he needed to become the role everyone desperately needed.

He raised his hand, with a quick flicker of light his hand caught a blaze. He swiftly flung the flames down to Sophia, and watched as the flames engulfed her corpse. He would not be able to bury her, but she deserved something.

"Fit for a king." Leliana spoke, either to Dorian or Levi. Morrigan and Shale searched the area, unsure how to act.

The body quickly turned to dust as the fire consumed it. There was truly nothing left to really burn. She had been locked away for so many years, all that was left was air and dust. What did remain intact, was the magnificent armor she wore. The now empty armor began to shine in the light of the dying fire.

Silver plated, with a hint of gold in several places. The light danced as it gleamed off the fine suit. It was obviously magically enhanced, no armor would last many years and not have so much as a mark of rust on it. Dorian spied the large emblem across the chest. Two golden Griffons stood back to back, wings spread out. They shone brightly, like a beacon amongst the darkness. Lying beside the armor, was a matching helmet. The silver helmet sported two large wing shapes on each side, similar to the Griffon's wings. The feathers tinted with gold. An amazingly beautiful set of armor. Truly, befitting the greatest of warriors.

"It's a fine suit, Ser Warden." Levi spoke quietly. "Perhaps you should take it." Dorian snapped his head to the man, disgusted.

"I will not steal from a dead woman!" his voice was overly harsh.

"I-I-I meant it belongs with the Wardens… is all…" Levi lowered his eyes. Dorian calmed a little then, seeing what the man had meant.

"I-I will take it. Perhaps I can return it to my order someday…"

Without needing to be asked, Shale stepped forward and picked it up for Dorian. Offering her services to be his personal 'pack mule' as she often said. Dorian thanked her.

They continued onwards through the keep. Morrigan had gathered several items of use. She handed Dorian a lyrium vial she found, he thanked her and downed it in seconds. With it he was able to handle the fights that followed as they climbed to the top of the tower. He still felt weak, but at least the Fade seemed to enhance his abilities as it should have from the start. There was still that other presence that drained him though. The unseen energy, seemed to be trying to pull Dorian to it.

…

Finally the group reached the source of the disturbance in the Fade. They had discovered a large room surrounded by books on dark and tainted magic and many vials and potions sprawled over desks. Whatever was bottled in those vials, seemed to be what was calling to Dorian.

Dorian picked a large book up that had been left open upon a mantel. It was the research journal of the mage Avernus. Each page was filled with detailed accounts of the ghastly experiments the mage conducted, and their results. Reading the details made Dorian's skin crawl. The pain and horrors the mage had inflicted on the other Wardens whom had been trapped inside with him, was plain barbaric. One account he did however find rather interesting.

"_Day 97. Energy and blood. Repeated applications have duplicated the results. I conjecture that success can be induced alchemically…"_

From what Dorian had gathered from the readings, the mage had attempted to enhance the Warden taint and unlock the power within the cursed blood. Avernus was aiming to control the corruption, to no longer be overpowered by its dark magic. To even be able to stop its effects entirely. It promised to help understand darkspawn in a way no experienced Warden could. Dorian found this intriguing, it might have given the upper hand in defeating the Blight.

The research sounded like blood magic, but Dorian couldn't have been certain. There was much too ancient magic that mage did not understand, he couldn't assume all of it was evil. But regardless, what Avernus had done willingly to innocent people was beyond human. It was also obvious from his writings, the mage never intended to share his secrets with other Wardens. It was all made to help himself, how befitting his findings died along with him.

Avernus wrote in his final entries he believed he had come close to unlocking it entirely. He just needed to continue experimenting in order to perfect it.

Walking to the table described, Dorian studied the various vials. He looked from the description on the page to find which one the mage referred to. A rather large bottle center to the other, let off a rather potent aroma. Just as the readings said it would. The liquid inside was thick and murky, a brighter shade to the actual blackened red colour of darkspawn blood. Smelled awfully similar to it as well.

Dorian stared at the bottle in his hand, that drawing feeling was pulling him once more. Something deep inside him urged to drink it. Begged to taste it.

His hands began to shake as he listened to the tempted feelings inside himself. He looked around the room, his allies didn't appear to be paying attention. All of them were studying the rooms many hidden treasures and secrets. Feeling alone, he returned once more to studying the contents inside the bottle.

He knew he was more than at risk for drinking the liquid, and completely insane for considering it. Who knew apart from the crazed mage who created it what powers it held? But it all seemed overly promising. Dorian was never a man for temptation, but this seemed deeper than humanly urges.

He took another sniff of the bottle. Apart from the darkspawn smell, nothing stood out to him. Deathroot and anything remotely as poisonous held a sweet smell, hard to overpower. Even darkspawn blood wouldn't be able to completely mask the scent. Everything inside this concoction was sour smelling, poison was generally designed to smell appeasing, for obvious reasons. Dorian was a man for plants and potions, he knew ingredients all too well. Studying them most of his life, he was beyond certain this was not a simple poison.

What was strange, was it gave off a similar powerful sensation to that of Lyrium. He had read in Avernus's journal the mage had planned to use this exact mixture, but must not have gotten the chance.

_What if it helps you to fight the darkspawn? If you understand them better, that gives our side the advantage._

_At what cost?_

_This is your own life you risk, you are not Avernus. No one is in danger. _

_Just myself._

_So? Because of the taint, you're going to die eventually anyway. The worst that could happen is it speeds up an inevitable process…_

Before he had a chance to reason with his inner thoughts, he acted irrationally. With a quick hand movement, he downed the bottle in a single gulp.

As soon as the liquid flowed down his throat, his body pulsed with pain and…something else. It was nowhere near as terrible to endure as his Joining, but the taste of darkspawn was still there. Stinging and burning his insides. He strained and tried to hold the pain inside, not wanting to alert the others what he had foolishly done. Struggling to contain the agony, he clung to the table for support. A small groan left his mouth. The bottle rolled empty onto the table top.

He felt something overwhelm him. Power. Knowledge. Strength. Understanding. So much power, he couldn't quite grasp any of it. It was like a different type of magic had entered his body, his soul. He no longer felt the draining sensation that weakened him inside the keeps walls, nothing was effecting him any longer. He was stronger.

That magic he just consumed, was the corruption he had sensed all along. It was his tainted blood that called out to the magic, urging to find it.

He felt hands on his shoulders, a gentle voice pulled him from his mind.

"What happened? Why are you trembling? Dorian?" Leliana's voice was shaky and her eyes darted from Dorian's to his body, trying to find the source of his pain.

"I-I'm alright…" He shook his head. Leliana noticed the nocked over vial.

"Please, for the love of the Maker… tell me you did not just drink that?"

"I did not just drink that." He coyly replied. With each passing second the pain vanished and was replaced by incredibly refreshing power. He was becoming stronger with each moment.

"This is not funny! You don't just drink things labeled 'drink me'! You have no idea what that potion does!" she was actually physically shaking Dorian now. "What this mad man has created."

Dorian assumed Leliana had discovered on her own the horrors Avernus was working on in his years of solitude.

For some reason, her actions were amusing him. He wasn't sure why, but seeing her care so much for his wellbeing made him happy. A completely irrational thought, considering what he had just done. An overwhelming feeling of relaxation was flowing inside, like he had just woken from a long rest. He felt like the taint within him had been… pleased? Calmed? Silenced? Something of that measure, regardless he was no longer tried or enraged.

"I know what poison is, that was not it. I'm fine." With that, Dorian nearly strutted away from Leliana.

He knew what he did was beyond foolish, but something inside him spoke a reassuring promise it would be safe. The taint again, he presumed. Which, he probably shouldn't have trusted, considering it was nothing more than darkness. But, feeling that enraged energy that was growing each day subdue, even for a while, was rather appealing.

He felt, he wasn't quite sure what he felt. What he did know was whatever that magic was, was not worth the lives it cost. For just one man to gain, many had been sacrificed. Even if Dorian had selfishly used the potion which caused so many to suffer, even if it helped in some way with the Blight, nothing is worth torturing innocent people.

Opening the door into the next room, the sight was beyond unbelievable. The room was a makeshift laboratory. Chained to the walls were skeletons, hanging limply in the candle light. Books and tools thrown about the room messily, disorganized and used.

And the man inhabiting the small 'dungeon' was an even more horrific sight then the bodies. Standing at the end of the room behind a laboratory slab, was a mage withered and warped with age. His appearance, was somewhat familiar. Dorian stared, not believing his eyes. This was impossible.

"I hear you… don't disrupt my concentration." the shaky voice boomed.

Dorian stormed towards him, a familiar rage grew. It appeared his new found calm trigger deactivated upon the sight of the treacherous mage. The cowardice blood mage was still alive, despite all the years locked away, he was alive and apparently well. Impossible.

Dorian could feel Dark magic pulsing and flowing through the air. All of it seemed to hum from the ancient mage. The answer to how he remained alive, had been answered. More blood magic, the answer to all this barbaric and unholy.

"Even now the demons seek to replenish their numbers. Are you to thank for this welcomed but temporary imbalance?" Avernus asked, leaving his station to greet his guests.

"This… this is not possible! How are you alive?" Dorian near shouted. It seemed a pointless question, but he wanted an answer from the monster regardless. If not to prove his own suspicions.

"Only just. I have only a short time left."

Dorian hadn't realized his sword remained in his hands, he twirled it absentmindedly. He thought how shorter Avernus's life expectancy was becoming each second. He wanted nothing more than to tear the traitorous bastard's heart out, a bit of vengeance for all those he helped to murder. Leliana stepped forward, bow ready.

"Careful. This… man has dabbled in matters forbidden by the Maker. He may look frail, but don't trust him." Her voice warning and weary.

"So, the maker told you that, did he? Short-sighted men have forbidden my research, not any god! Ha! Enough!" Avernus shouted. With that Avernus ignored Leliana and returned his attention to Dorian. "Why are you here? What is your intent?"

"Aside from debating to let you live?" Dorian growled. "Soldiers Peak must be rid of its plague of demons."

"Agreed. This must be the first priority. The only priority."

_That is… interesting…_

"Curious, considering it was you who conjured them." Dorian retorted. "I want some answers from you!"

"To what questions, I wonder? Ask."

Dorian asked question after question. He desperately wanted to know why the mage had done it, what drove him to betray both his order and his fellow mages. He also asked on behalf of Levi the history of the man's family honor. Levi found the answer he was searching for with his family, his ancestor had indeed been a great leader, though in the end a naive one. He also learned it was Avernus who called him there, this was why Levi dreamed of the place, it was magic that made him do so.

Avernus explained the reason for his current existence, his very being had been warped by dark magic. Despite Dorian's views on Chantry and their oppression, one thing was certain, blood magic was wrong. It changed people, broke them, destroyed them. He had seen it with his own eyes. There would never be a truthful deal with a demon.

The undead mage told of the disaster that overtook the fort. He cursed the need to recount the events, but did regardless. A tyrant Arland was rebelled against by the Wardens, and thus the lord ordered the perilous attack on the fort. The Wardens refused to allow the noblemen to further abuse his powers. Though a noble and honorable deed, it was against the Warden code to interfere with politics.

Avernus revealed the planning and research he put into calling the demons, believing he would have been prepared for any of the beats treachery. How wrong he was. The deranged man was actually proud he was able to call so many demons at once, and annoyed he was not powerful enough to control them. This is what caused the massive rip in the Veil.

"You're to blame for all this! You tortured your comrades, and for what? You unleashed demons upon your fellow Wardens and left them to die!" Dorian snapped. "Some things, you just don't do!" he felt his body twitch slightly with suppressed rage.

"From a Warden… and no less a mage… that means something. So tired, so old…" at that, the ancient man seemed to be overcome with shame. "Let me undo my greatest of mistakes. Let me cleanse this place. Then… Then, I will accept whatever justice you feel I merit…."

"Honorable, but what was the purpose of your experiments?"

"To stop the demonic tide. To correct the miscalculations of the past. Blood magic comes from demons. They could counter every bit of lore I knew…. But then, I created something greater…"

The man's eyes seemed to glow. Dorian wasn't sure if it was the similar glow he to shared, or if it was due to the magic holding the man together. Nothing about him seemed human anymore, he was just as far gone as Sophie had been.

Dorian wasn't sure what his should do. His body urged to avenge the wrongs done and end this monsters life, and yet, something about him was compelling. There was uses to the man's research, but the cost was far too great to get results. Had Dorian the opportunity to unlock what Avernus did, he never would have risked others. But then again, he had stubbornness when it came to doing what was 'right' and 'wrong'. He knew all too well, the line in-between could be found fuzzy.

At the start, Avernus was attempting to right his wrongs, but quickly that desire to fix things was replaced by greed. Once he knew what he stumbled onto the need for power let him slip away. He risked many lives, for the sake of his own survival.

Dorian agreed to allow Avernus's help, and then leave him be.

…

The ride inside the caravan was not an easy one. Bodan drove like a madman, and it was very unnerving to Dorian. But, they needed to get to Redcliffe quickly, and this was the fastest way. It would only take a day's travel at the speed Bodan was forcing the nag to go. The caravan jumped and jiggled as he rode along at a speed Dorian was certain the wheels were not designed for.

Morrigan transformed into an eagle and flew off, saying she would rather not become ill thanks to a reckless dwarf. Dorian wished he could follow. He even tried to, but a certain bard informed him he required rest. Shale was surprisingly light footed and ran along behind the caravan. Dorian could hear her squishing flowers and laughing about it. Spirit sat beside his master, snoring loudly. Dorian marveled in how comfortable the hound found the experience.

They were nearing Redcliffe now, which was a great relief. Leliana had sat in front of the mage in silence for majority of the ride. After he near bit her head off for offering to tend to his cuts, she seemed to avoid eye contact. He didn't mean to snap, and mumbled a quick apology. It didn't seem to bother her too much, luckily. It just seemed to give her the hint he was not in a good mood.

So, for the most of the journey Dorian studied the tome he removed from Avernus's body. He didn't regret not letting the monster live, but he did regret not gaining more knowledge from him. The tome did seem to make up for it. The secrets and spells it held were incredible. There even appeared to be further theories on the potion Dorian drank, further studies on permanently slowing the effects of the taint.

"May I ask you something?" Leliana quietly disturbed his reading. Due to rest, he didn't mind.

"Of course." He said closing the tome with a warm smile.

"You promised to let Avernus live, but then… I want to know why you lied."

Sighing, Dorian rubbed his temple. He wasn't sure why he did either, perhaps to make his death less sudden, perhaps to toy with his mind. There were many possible reasons. But in truth, he didn't know why. Maybe for fear Avernus would go back on his word for aid? That seemed logical. He knew why the mage had to die though, that was certain.

"I'm not sure why. I'm sorry, I don't have the answer for you…" he felt shame at his words. He didn't want to think on it.

"I see." Was all she could manage. It wasn't harsh, just honest. That was what made him feel worse.

"All I know is, I wanted him to pay… what I felt inside that building… it's hard to express." he tried to give her some form of an explanation. "I felt all the lost emotions and pains with the tear in the Veil. The people who died there, they couldn't rest thanks to him. Then, instead of atoning for his crimes, he continued to torture the hiding survivors. For personal gain… I don't know…Maybe I was just being sadistic…"

"No." Dorian snapped up to meet her eyes. "You are not that type of person."

"You barely now me." He mumbled. "_**I **_barely know me."

"We all have our secrets to bare, our pains to hide. It is the trust in others that allows us to share them, to not carry the heavy load all the time. My time in the Chantry taught me this." she placed a hand on Dorian's. He looked from it to her eyes. "I know you well enough to tell what kind of person you are."

"And what kind of person am I?" his face hardened.

"That cannot be explained in words. Who you are is determined by your actions." She smiled. "You are kind and helpful. You are smart, that has always been obvious. You can be brave and honorable. Truthful, which is why questioned you… But, you are also troubled." Her eyes turned sad as she looked at him.

He flinched away from her touch and stare. He knew what happened accidentally between them would haunt him. He knew that night he let his emotions out would forever control how she saw him. She now thought he was probably weak, or crazy, or perhaps both.

"Your Chantry taught you many things…" he grumbled.

"Sorry?" she was taken aback by the statement.

"Your Chantry, is not the Chantry I know. I envy you and _**your**_ Chantry. No one is hated or tortured. Mine, well… recall what I told those bastards earlier…"

He was unsure why he had suddenly grown so cold. Ever since he was able to think about the harsh words of the villagers, something inside him festered away. That moment the rock hit, something snapped. He couldn't even honestly blame his anger on the taint, it was purely his own rage. Which scared him.

"I-I…" she tried to speak, but failed. His tone softened.

"You told me many lovely things Leliana, but none of them exist in my world. There is no room for any of it. There is only order or chaos. Chaos ends in death and destruction, look to the Forbidden City and Tevinter. And order ends in a lonely death, never knowing more than beyond the walls we are confined to. We live yes, but what kind of life is it?"

She stared at him, not with contempt at his harsh words, but sadness.

"My world, there is nothing _**good**_. No happiness, no fun, no laughter and dancing. There is no love, between and man and a woman or between anyone. Even friendship comes at a price, if it can be seen as corrupted or influential it must end. The only pleasures are the ones we can hide away. I found mine in the books and the plants and the silence… but even they were not enough…" he sighed.

_And you missed it… _

_What's utterly insane, I still do. It's all I knew, all I was._

"You know, I have never seen rain." His demeanor seemed to change, he wasn't angry anymore, just lost. Realizing how wrong something is tends to do that. "Today, I saw snow for the first time. What's odd is it will be one of the happiest memories I will have in my short life…"

"Why a short life?" he had nearly forgotten Leliana was even there.

"I…" he wasn't sure this was the time for such talk. "No reason."

He still hadn't truthfully come to terms with dying at the age of fifty. When he was told, shock was definitely there. But not fear. He never really feared death, why fear death when life was never that worthwhile to begin with. He feared pain though, boy did he ever.

"I am sorry." Leliana quietly said. Once more his thoughts were brought back. He needed to stop wandering off mentally so much.

"For?"

"Many things. For pressing my beliefs on you. For the life you have lived. For what happened today… all of it." She looked as though she would cry.

_What on earth? Why is she so sad? This isn't her fault! Maker, I made it sound that way didn't I?_

"It is not your fault, none of it." he grabbed her hands, without a thought at what he was doing and looked dead in her eyes. "I am not sorry for the life I have lived. There are many who have not been as lucky as I. The worst I got out of it is foot-in-mouth syndrome, compulsive shyness and a know-it-all complex."

His sarcastic tone made her giggle slightly. His heart fluttered at the sound.

"You… are truly amazing." She smiled. "You see so much light in things. It is sad that you don't seem to realize just how wonderful you truly are."

Her words stunned him to the spot. Such kindness, was never truly offered to him. He was finding these sort of words were becoming frequent with his new company. Compliments, gratitude, all strange and yet welcomed.

He stared with bewilderment at the woman he barely knew who offered such kindness. She lifted one of her hands from his grip and touched the cut above his eye gently. He winced.

"Why haven't you healed it?"

"To remember." He shrugged. "That no matter what, I am a mage. And the world will always see me as such, no matter what I do. I should never forget that…"

He left out the part about letting his guard down, it seemed too harsh to say at present. She smiled and gently brushed his fringe from his eyes.

"You have no idea how much more you are…" she smiled.

For a moment, the two stared in complete silence. Dorian could feel his heart beat quicken. He hadn't realized just how close they were at present. The caravan didn't leave an awful lot of space, he would only need to lean forward slightly to…

_Andraste's Flaming Vengeance!_

Dorian released Leliana's hands, leaving the bard rather startled. He awkwardly began rubbing his neck violently and leant back as far as the caravan walls allowed. Suppressing a nervous laugh from escaping. Eyes darting everywhere to avoid hers. She seemed to be doing the same, how odd he thought. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment. That was incredibly inappropriate for him, almost as bad as when he complimented her when she tended to his cut that night. He didn't like how easy it was to lose focus those days, especially around her.

His eyes focused on the Warden armor Shale carried for him. The suit of armor sat neatly beside Bodan's stock. He wondered what he was going to do with it. It was a fine suit indeed. The finest, no doubt. He recalled offering it to Levi before leaving, who politely turned it down, he requested it remain within the Wardens. Dorian recalled before he left a rare material he found along the road, Starmetal. As a reward for helping reclaim the keep, Levi offered to have the metal smelted into something for the mage. Dorian wondered what it would be and when he could return to claim it.

"We have arrived, master Warden!" Bodan shouted back. Dorian let out a grateful breath. Anything to break the tension inside that little space.

"Thank you for the lift Bodan." He said as he crawled out the back door.

"Anytime misère. My boy and I will stay back here for a while, have a look around. We will catch up later."

Dorian attempted to be gentlemanly and assist Leliana out. She graciously took his hand and stepped down, with a slight hint of perhaps a blush.

_She has been doing that a bit lately. I wonder why? Must be making her uncomfortable. _

Morrigan had apparently landed and transformed once more, she waited semi patiently. Shale was standing ready to proceed. And Spirit yawned and jumped out of the caravan happily wagging his tail.

"Look, it's the other Squishy things we travel with." Shale pointed over to the three men running full speed towards Dorian.

Alistair looked visibly distressed. Dorian instantly felt worried, what had happened while they were at the keep. Something was clearly wrong. And Dorian could now feel it, something foul was in the air.

_Great… this is all too familiar_.

"Dorian! Thank the Maker!" Alistair tried to catch his breath.

"What is it, what's happened?"

Alistair failed to catch his breath, so Zevran helped him with explanations.

"It seems the rumors about the Arl have been… accurate. No one here has heard anything from the castle in quite some time. But that is not the worst of it… something rather nasty and unhappy is stalking the town. They suspect an attack this evening." The elf explained.

"We need to proceed." Sten was visibly annoyed. The Qunari voiced his opinions on Dorian's misadventure to Soldiers Peak, he thought it a waste of time.

"What do you-" Dorian began but was quickly interrupted by an enraged Alistair.

"You told me that the rumors had to be false! You thought everything would be fine! We should have come here sooner!" he was almost shaking Dorian. The mage had no idea what was going on.

"Firstly Alistair, I never claimed they were false." He said calmly. "I said rumors are called such, because they are told from one ear to another. Information can be changed. Secondly, you also agreed that I should go to Soldier's Peak. You thought we should honor Duncan's promise. Did you not?"

"Yes, but we went to the Bricillian first, like you wanted!"

'Yes, because-"

"I have been wanting to come here for some time! But you kept wanting to make detours! We should have come here first!"

"Maybe because I am in charge, apparently!" Dorian snapped. "Or did you forget the time you placed that lovely responsibility on my head!" Dorian had to look up in order to shout back at Alistair, normally he would have been intimidated, but the past few days he was having had given him more than a little backbone.

"No, I haven't forgot that…" Alistair backed away slightly. "But we are a team! We are supposed to work together." His words seemed to calm, at the realization the fight he picked had been lost from the beginning.

"Yes, we are! From the moment I met you, I have not seen you take charge except when it suits you! We are both Grey Warden's as you remind me, but then you forget when things get heavy. You thought it was a good idea to go to Soldiers Peak! Why, because Duncan would have wanted it!"

"But I-" Alistair attempted to continue his argument but was quickly shut down.

"Don't like what I decide, do it better than!"

With that, Dorian stormed off. Alistair immediately cursed aloud and even smacked his head a few times. He then ran after Dorian. It didn't take long to catch up. The others stared wild-eyed after the Wardens, rather stunned by what took place.

"I-I am so sorry…" the senior Warden began. "I have no idea what came over me…" it was the truth, and Dorian could hear it in his voice.

"I think I do." Dorian turned and half smiled at the man. He knew all too well what they both held inside was unstable. Only now, Dorian seemed to have a warning when the taint started to bubble in his skin. "It's a Warden thing." He shrugged.

"That is no excuse." Alistair shook his head. "I will try harder from now on, to be there for you all the time. I am a Warden, and its time I acted like it, not when it simply suits me. You're all I've got left, I can't destroy that… that's why I have to tell you something…"

Dorian stopped in his tracks. The _'all I have left'_ hit him rather hard. He knew Alistair had taken the blow at Ostagar to heart, but he never truly saw things from Alistair's point of view. The death of Duncan and the Warden's wasn't like losing comrades, it was deeper. They were his family. Though Dorian spoke with him about it, he never realized how much it truly ate the man up. He often found it hard sometimes to see him as the Grey Warden and an ally, and not the Templar.

"Yeah?" was all Dorian could muster.

Alistair seemed to be… nervous? Over what, Dorian was unsure of.

**Authors Notes:**

**My theory is Sophia Dryden was not just possessed by a demon, she was still alive because of her Calling.**

**The powers Dorian gained from Avernus's potion just enhance his taint, no blood magic. **

**The Warden Commander Armor is the same as the one the Warden wears in the Sacred Ashes Trailer. But with the winged helmet instead, I always thought that one suited the Wardens better.**


	9. Before the Storm

_Chapter nine: Before the Storm_

The calm before battle, that's what breaks a soldier. The waiting, the uncertainty. The fear. As the soldiers watched the orange sky begin to darken, the silence that spread across the field was eerie.

Dorian stood at the frontline, Alistair flanked his left and Sten stood close behind. The Qunari threatened he would not miss the moment of charge. To the mages right stood the honorable Ser Perth. One of the few men to respect Dorian for being both a Warden _**and**_ a mage. Thanks to Dorian's vast knowledge of chemicals, he was able to alert the knight of his plan for boiled oil. Although, he was rather surprised the knight did not think of such things himself.

Atop the hillside behind them, Leliana and Morrigan stood prepared to fight. Dorian scanned the area, Shale and Zevran stood close to the oil drums. Shale offered to be the one to 'light the candles'. Her sense of humor never ceased to please.

Leliana met Dorian's glance. She nodded, courage strong in her eyes. Dorian did the same, somehow seeing his companion's bravery was reassuring. Alistair let out a heavy breath, Dorian turned to him. His 'new' armor clanked as he did so. It was rather frustrating.

"I wish you all hadn't persuaded me to wear this." the mage winged. "I sound like a musical instrument. And feel like a sweaty boot." The mood called to be lightened. Alistair chuckled lightly.

"Well, I was fine with you wearing your rages… I mean _robes_. But, Leliana was rather persistent you needed better protection." Dorian couldn't help but smile at her caring. "I'm a sucker for an angry woman, so of course I agreed. She's pretty remarkable. Such a kind, and warm hearted person."

Alistair smiled off into the distance. Dorian felt a little ping of jealousy at his fond tone. He wasn't sure why, and dismissed the feeling.

"You know, this will be my first time on the battlefield." Alistair sighed. Ostagar was running through his mind also.

"As will I." Dorian nodded. "This feels… different."

"What do you mean?" the man turned his head to look fully at his companion.

"Before the battle at Ostagar started, there was the calm, like this. But there, people felt... Overly hopeful the entire time. Like, there was nothing to fear. Then, the moment they knew it was real… it hit them. All the fear, all the panic, in one big wave." Alistair nodded at Dorian's words. "The Wardens were the only ones prepared. Because of the taint, and because we followed a man who thought rationally towards the situation. As soon as the King's men saw the horde approaching, their confidence turned to despair. Here, these people feel the doom. They are scared now, and some are hopeless."

Ser Perth and several other men turned their eyes to Dorian now. He didn't pay attention, just focused ahead.

"But fear, is good. Fear prepares us, for the inevitable. It prepares us to fight to stay alive. Despite feeling hopeless, it's that fear that makes us refuse to let go and give in. Fear, can in some ways be the greatest courage." Dorian could feel his body begin its usual tremble before a fight. He spoke from experience. "Each time I face a foe, I'm terrified. I am always certain I am about to meet my end. And it is because of that fear, I am able to think quickly and stay alive. Desperately, I cling to the chance to keep living. No longer do I flight, my body radiates with panic, and I fight. Fight to stay alive, to live another day. And if I am to fall, I'll be damned if I don't put up a good struggle."

A few _'here here's'_ and a low rumble of approval coursed through the crowd. Dorian couldn't help but grin. Ser Perth let out a small chuckle.

"Maker, you sure you are not a Commander? That was rather inspiring, and even still honest. No false hope, just the truth." The knight chuckled.

"I speak from my heart or my head. There is no middle man." Dorian smiled.

"This feels wrong." He heard Sten say behind him. The mage turned his head to the side to speak with his companion.

"What does? The battle?"

"No." The Qunari said sternly. "Last time I charged onto a battlefield, I had my sword. I am not whole, I cannot fight truly. This is why I should have remained caged." This was the most… personal… thing Sten had ever said. Dorian did not want the Qunari to break this spell, so the mage pressed for more. The battle had seemed to put Sten's mind at ease.

"Why were you in the cage?"

"I caged myself." Sten said bluntly. "A weak mind is a deadly foe, as you are well aware." This was not an insult, Sten often called Dorian a scholar in Seerabas form. Dorian know Sten thought he was of worthy intelligence.

"Exactly, what happened?" Dorian asked.

Sten went on to recount how he was sent by the Arishok, the 'general' of the Qun army. He was sent to learn of the Blight. Dorian knew this, he recalled Sten sharing it with him after practice one evening. But what he didn't know, was that Sten had not traveled alone. Sten called them his 'brothers' of the Beresaad. Together, they made their way across the countryside, seeing nothing of the Blight. Until, they camped by Lake Calenhad. There, they were swarmed and slaughtered by Darkspawn.

"I am told, no others survived. I don't know how long I laid on the battlefield among the dead. Nor do I know how the farmers found me. I only know that when I awoke I was no longer among my brothers, and my sword was gone from my hand."

Sten, in a stern yet ashamed voice, revealed to Dorian out of fear and shock, he killed his rescuers in a panicked state. Accusing them at first for hiding his sword, even though he knew they didn't have it. For a Qunari, to lose ones blade is to lose ones soul. And so, Sten acted in the only way he knew how. He slaughtered the innocent farmers. And that, was why he caged himself. That was why he was penitence.

Dorian, was unsure what to make of it. Alistair quietly mumbled it was only a sword. But the way Sten spoke of it, it was like an extension of himself. Dorian could in a sense understand, magic was an extension of his being. A weapon, but also part of his soul. Though magic was a curse and at times Dorian and wished it gone. Despite this, he knew he would feel incomplete without it.

"Don't worry," Dorian turned to the Qunari, and looked up into his eyes. "I swear to you Sten, I will find it."

"Perhaps," Sten's face twitched with an unknown emotion. "Those words are empty. But, thank you all the same."

Alistair made a face of shock. Either with what he witnessed exchanged between the Qunari and mage, or because Dorian swore to wander around the whole of Ferelden to find one sword. Turning back, Dorian paid Alistair no attention. Instead he continued to watch the sun set over the mountain.

The conversation eased Dorian's nerves. Helped to distract him from what lay ahead. Soon enough, the sky was completely dark. The last of the sun's rays, disappeared behind the castle.

An eerie silence swept over the men. Dorian braced in his chainmail. He held the new sword in his hands, grasping it fondly. He made a promise to wield it in battle and help 'save the village' with it. A promise he made to a child, but he would not break. Surprisingly, the sword held great magic. With his own powers to enhance it, the blade would be near unstoppable. Which was a relief, the chainmail would restrict his flow of magic. It hadn't been enchanted or anything. Most of the time he would need to rely on sword play during the upcoming battle.

Suddenly, over the mountain the sounds of growling and screeching thundered loudly. Then, the creeping shadows could be spotted, the monsters were closing in.

"Here they come!" shouted the man on watch.

"Ready yourselves men!" Ser Perth bellowed.

"If we die, we die as bleeding heroes!" shouted the rather enthusiastic Murdock.

"Here we go…" Alistair breathed.

Once the few scavenged creatures crawled sluggishly into sight, Dorian readied his staff. Soon enough, the creatures charged, snarling and screeching as they advanced. _Steady_ he thought _not yet_. Closer and closer, the horde came. The men twitched and shook, eager to advance. They waited.

Finally, a large horde of undead beasts advanced towards the men. So close, only a few feet from the soldiers ready to battle.

"_**NOW!**_"

With a swift flick of his staff, a shot of light shun over the battlefield, blinding the creatures. Shale, given her signal launched the first barrel. On target it reached just above the undead. Leliana, with a quick shot fired her flame arrow. The barrel lit up, and fell to the ground in a thunderous explosion.

The men had to re-brace after the impact, Dorian's plan had worked a little too enthusiastically. The first horde had been completely destroyed. With that, Ser Perth gave his men the word to charge.

Dorian preyed they remembered the plan, to stay back as far as they can, allowing Shale to launch more barrels. Luckily they seemed to follow, keeping well away from the clearing the creatures advanced through.

Dorian felt the familiar rush of battle. His fight or flight motion, as he explained. The men fighting seemed to feel it as well. Simple farmers and shop keeps, all fought like mighty knights. Fighting to stay alive.

It didn't take long for the creatures to stop advancing. Dorian swung his sword fluently with one hand, with the other lighting the blighted monsters on fire. The creatures squealed and crackled as the flames engulfed them. Alistair and Sprit charged into the main swarm, knocking several down with a single rush. Zevran cut down the ones that broke past the soldier's forces, keeping them away from Shale and the archers.

Dorian kept at a distance, making sure not many slipped through. He smirked as Zevran cursed him for _'ruining his fun'_. His moment of distraction got the better of him. A seemingly large creature lunged from behind, about to knock the mage down. Dorian turned, ready nevertheless, prepared to stop the blow. There was no need. The creature fell back defeated. Several arrows pointed from its head. Dorian looked up to the cliff. He couldn't see clearly, but a flash of red hair was leading the archers, readying another shot.

He grinned and returned to the fight. A comforting sensation ran over him, he felt safe knowing Leliana had his back. It was comforting to have someone watch over him. Especially, someone like her.

_Focus idiot!_

…

It had seemed that the battle was won. No more creatures were coming, and the ones that arrived were once again dead. The men began cheering, but Dorian didn't feel at ease. Something shifted in the air.

"Their attacking the village!" came a messenger, panicked and out of breath. "The corpses are rising from the lake!"

Ser Perth, Alistair and Dorian all cursed at the same time. None had truly considered that. Dorian had hoped Ban Tegan's militia would have handled what broke through. The sounds from down the hill confirmed that was not an option.

"Ser Perth, you and your men stay here. Make sure no more come from that clearing." The knight nodded. "My team and I will deal with the Blighters!"

Dorian began racing down the hill. Spirit close by his side, and Alistair behind. He could feel the earth rumble with the stride of Shale. He should have known she wouldn't miss the action. Sten also followed, visibly smiling with the rush of the fight. Zevran wasn't far behind, yahooing with his rush.

Dorian assumed Leliana and Morrigan would remain behind to help the men. But not so far behind, the woman were speeding to keep up. He should have trusted they would come to his side.

Sure enough, the Chantry was being overrun with the undead attackers. Ban Tegan did his best with what little men he had, but the numbers were nothing compared to the amount of creatures attacking. Dorian saw more rising from the lake. A rather insane, and yet ingenious idea came to mind.

"Shale, Alistair, Zevran and Sten! Help the men out!" the four ran off. "Morrigan, offer any healing you can to the wounded. Attack where you can, take form if you must. Stay low, and swipe fierce." The witch grinned and with a quick stride and leap, her body shook and transformed into a swarm of insects. "Leliana, keep them off me."

He went to run towards the lake, but the bard grabbed his wrist. He turned, rather startled at her grip. No matter what rush his body was feeling, this was still a little shocking. Her eyes were both excited and concerned.

"What are you planning?" she said. He grinned, rather crazily.

"Something rather stupid."

"I'm not sure I like this…" that hint of excitement was still in her voice despite the protest.

"Trust me." He grinned wider. She let go, smiling as well.

"Not sure I can, when you grin like that."

He laughed and ran off towards the lake, his trusted hound in toe. Spirit jumped any creature that so much as saw Dorian approaching, sinking his teeth deep into their necks. Dorian could hear the fight was being won outside the Chantry, but it wouldn't be any good if Dorian didn't succeed.

Leliana's arrows flew past his head and struck anything even slightly near him. Dorian smirked, grateful he didn't need to worry. Not with his two trusty bodyguards close by.

Finally, he reached the water's edge. Crouching down, he placed his open palms on top of the water. This would require utmost focus. If he went too far, anything else living in the lake would die, resulting in loss of food. Not enough, it would be ineffective. Just enough to skim the surface.

Allowing all his mana to flow into his hands, he felt the blue glow light in his eyes. The fire kindled and flicked violently inside. It convulsed and spread to his hands. Large flames flowed from his palms and licked the water, spreading over the entire water front. The creatures emerging ran around burning and clawing at themselves, unable to keep from burning and crumbling apart. Nothing that came from the water made it far.

It didn't take long before the undead soldiers ceased to attack. Though Tegan predicted the battle would last all night, it barely lasted a few hours. The men cheered and roared with joy. Dorian stopped the flames and cooled down. He did not join in the cheers. Something was shifting in the air, that same off putting sensation he had felt since he arrived gripped him once more. He believed that the attacks stopped, because something knew it was ineffective. Something, was watching him.

"That… was insanely awesome!" came the approval of Zevran, followed by a slap across the back. Dorian hadn't realized his team gathered around him.

"Effective." Sten said with a nod. Always a one with compliments.

"That was amazing!" Alistair said, bringing Dorian into a bear hug. The mage stiffened with the grasp as he was lifted up. "So smart! How do you come up with this stuff?"

Dorian shrugged as he was let down. All this excitement was welcome, but a little overwhelming.

"It is learning quickly how to have my kind of fun." Shale said, while she stomped on a burnt husk.

"Twas impressive, yet incredibly foolish." Morrigan said sternly, hiding the smile on her lips.

Dorian went to speak with Ban Tegan, but was quickly halted by a warm embrace. Leather armor pressed firmly against his chainmail. Yet, he still felt body warmth. He stiffed against the other body's presence. Leliana's head pressed into his shoulder. Dorian stood, arms firmly by his side, staring wide eyed at his companions.

Zevran held a thumbs up with an overly keen grin. Shale and Sten seemed indifferent, Sprit wagged his tail. Alistair raised an eyebrow with and smirked at Dorian. Morrigan, snarled visibly and stormed off.

_What was that about?_

_Wait… what's happening anyway?_

Leliana pulled away, but her hands remained on Dorian's shoulders. He stared at her a little confused, a little shocked. But whole lot tingly. She smiled.

"That, was beyond amazing, _mon ami_!" the foreign words rolled off her tongue delightfully. Dorian felt the tingle again. It was unsettling.

"Um… Uh… thank you…" he said looking awkwardly at her. His eyes quickly left hers and attempted to focus on the others. "Uh thank you everyone. But, I fear this is not over. We need to help the wounded and make sure nothing is hiding in the darkness. I need two volunteers to search the area for straggling creatures."

Shale and Sten stepped forward, as he suspected they would.

"Let's go see Ban Tegan, find out what the damage is." Alistair added, feeling rather pleased with himself.

…

Dorian and Alistair sat on the steps of the Chantry. Shale stood guard not far away, ever ready to squash something of a threatening nature. The Revered Mother was more than happy to set up cots for Dorian and his team to rest the night. Ban Tegan said as soon as the sun rose and a small service was provided for the fallen, they would speak more on the Arl.

Alistair began to yawn, the Warden had opted to sit watch with his friend. But was quickly struggling to remain awake.

"Why don't you call it a night? Shale will be here with me." Dorian smiled. Alistair shook his head.

"Nope, you insisted on not sleeping… *_yawn_* I will stay awake with you." He pouted and crossed his arms. Dorian smiled, Alistair reminded him of a younger Jowan. Childlike and gentle natured.

"Ha-ha, I also have the ability to remain awake all night, with the wave of my hands." He did so with dramatic effect. "You would need to chew several stamina roots to even be able to walk tomorrow."

"How can you stay awake? Teach me?" Alistair grinned, sleepily.

"It requires a taste for lyrium. It gives me a powerful energy kick. A few bottles of that, mixed with a stamina root or two, plus a healing spell for my headache, I will not need to sleep until tomorrow night. But, not even the Archdemon would wake me once I drift off." He chuckled. Alistair tried to take in what he said, the man was overly tired so it probably blurred into one.

"Uhhhh, might go to sleep… soon. Not right now." He yawned. "Not quite ready yet. Wanted to talk."

"Anything, my liege." Dorian bowed his head, grinning.

"I am going *_yawn_* to regret telling you that… Anyway, Leliana filled me in about Soldier's Peak." His eyes hardened.

"Yeah?"

"You did the right thing with Avernus, he betrayed so many… It mustn't have been easy, with the angry mob, and the blood magic, just plain everything… plus the Fade and demons-"

"Please get to the point." Dorian sighed.

"Right, sorry. I just wanted to know what you drank, exactly."

Dorian had nearly forgotten about that. He wondered why the taint hadn't ached in his body for a while. He felt it pulsate during the fight, but not as much as it used to. Perhaps it would only react so much with darkspawn now.

"It promised to help me understand the taint. Unlock its hidden abilities. To control it."

"Did it work?"

"I think so." Dorian shrugged. "I felt extremely better after I drank it. I also didn't tear your head off this afternoon, or erupt like I did with the villagers." He smirked, Alistair flinched at the fresh memory of his 'tantrum'.

"Risky…" Alistair muttered shaking his head.

"If it helps me understand our enemies better, it's worth it. Anything to stop the Blight, right?"

_Not like I'll be living a long and fulfilled life anyway…_

_Nope, not thinking about that right now._

"Right…" Alistair yawned. He bid Dorian a well night, then retired inside.

Dorian sighed and looked out to the starry sky. He would never grow tired of seeing it.

"Not tired?" he heard the flowery voice of Leliana behind him.

Turning his head, he noticed she wore her usual pale yellow frock. She often commented how plain and horrid it was. Dorian liked it, he quietly admired how pretty it made her. It fit in all the right places and complimented her nicely.

_And where are those places exactly? _

_Shut up…_

Dorian shook his head, realizing she was waiting for an answer.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, smiling warmly. The usual smile that made Dorian blush.

"Please." He smiled in return. "Not tired either?"

"Not really." She sat rather closely beside him. "I rested my eyes for a while, but awoke suddenly. I noticed you were not in your cot… so I thought I would join you." She blushed.

"Nightmares?" he avoided the fact she had looked towards his bed to begin with.

"Something like that, _mon ami_." She smiled.

"What does that mean? You called me it earlier."

"It's Orelsian for _My Friend_." Dorian blushed. He had assumed they were, but to hear her call him such was flattering.

"Even after… everything you saw?" she had avoided his outburst. He appreciated it, but he needed to know if it affected their friendship.

"What about it?" she said, rather confused.

"What I was… what I said… especially about the Maker." He rubbed his hands nervously.

"What you said is the truth, they had no right to treat you as such. What you were, is nothing to be ashamed of. You are only human, you do not need to contain every emotion forever." She smiled. "As for the Maker, that is your belief. I will not try and convince you otherwise. As you said, we each experience the Maker differently."

"I believe."

"Sorry?"

"I know he exists. I have been raised as an Andrastian. It is just hard to truly follow when you have seen corruption first hand, and it isn't always the source you are made to believe."

"That I understand." She smiled.

They sat in silence for a few moments, both enjoying the night sky.

"I think Alistair likes you." He said rather suddenly, startling her.

_What are you doing? _

_I have no bleeding idea…_

"He… what?" she spluttered.

"It-it's just he says a lot of kind words about you. And compliments you. And you two also seem to get along rather well." He smiled, but part of him felt slightly heavy.

"You think… something is between us?"

"I-yes?" Dorian was quickly feeling the redness of his cheeks spread.

"And what if there was…?" she smirked, rather cheekily. Dorian was slightly unsure how to react.

"Uhhhh…" he felt slightly disappointed.

_Why are you acting like this!?_

"There is nothing between us." She said with a gentle smile and small laugh. "He is rather handsome, and has a good heart. But no, I do not feel that way towards him. And I dear say he doesn't toward me. I think of him as more a little brother. He knows this as well."

"Is it because of what you were telling me earlier?"

_Dorian Amell, SHUT-UP!_

"Because he is a man? Ha-ha I told you those things do not matter to me. It is just… I do not feel that way towards him. I cannot control it, attraction just happens. It did not with Alistair. Although, knowing he is a prince, if I did, competition would be inevitable." She chuckled.

"I see…" something fluttered inside him. Hope? False hope maybe, but hope still.

"Why did you bring it up?" she raised her eyebrow.

"Um…" _think man, think!_ "Just want to see you both happy." He smiled awkwardly. Leliana's expression said she wasn't buying it.

"Uh-huh. Well, matchmaker isn't one of your finer skills, Dorian."

"Apparently not." He chuckled. "I might have better luck with Zevran and Morrigan though. Man keeps insisting I put in a _'good word'_ for him. Whatever that means." He shrugged.

"I doubt she will comply. From where I stand, she has her eyes elsewhere." Her face was casual, but something glinted in her eyes.

"Alistair?" he asked nonchalantly. Remembering his silent bet he made upon arriving at Lothering.

_Either murder or romance. Both is still possible._

"Maker no!" she laughed hysterically. "I thought there was something between them when I first joined, I have now concluded it is pure spite. Alastair doesn't seem to understand 'sexual tension', though Zevran seems eager to teach him."

"Who then?"

Leliana looked at the dimwit-overly innocent mage with a face that said '_really'?_

"Is there any other men traveling with us?" she patiently asked.

"Sten? I hear the comments she makes, I think Sten would rather bed Shale though." He laughed innocently. Shale snorted offside, apparently not an option. Leliana actually smacked her face into her palm and laughed, then pointed at Dorian.

"M-me?" that was truthfully shocking.

"_**Yes**_!" she lifted her head to study his reaction.

"Why would you think that?"

"You two spend a lot of time together. She seems only happy to be alone with you and tolerate speaking together. She even came to your defense at Soldiers Peak. Something I did not expect." That little hint of jealousy returned once more.

"I thought we were friends, that's all. We have a bit in common, not just being both mages, but having somewhat lonely lives." He said shrugging.

"I think she has more than friendship in mind." Leliana said rather icily. It was always obvious the women didn't seem to get along.

"She is rather beautiful, and has a good heart." Dorian smirked as he retold what Leliana said. "Well, when she shows it." He laughed. "But, I do not love her. She is my friend, and I hope she only sees me as such."

"I don't think Morrigan understands love. I think she only wants '_intimacy_'." Leliana pressed. Rather intently she studied Dorian's response.

"Are they not the same?"

Leliana's icy glare seemed to gentle, like she remembered who she was speaking with.

"Not always, no. Zevran would probably be better suited to explain you don't have to deeply care for someone to want to sleep with them."

"But… I thought that was the point of it? As a sign of love?" Dorian face was burning. This was very embarrassing. And he also felt plain stupid.

"Not always." Leliana smiled. "Sometimes, such love only exists in the fantastic stories you read. And the ones I tell."

"I think… I like the fantastic versions better… more, meaningful." Dorian muttered. He thought he heard Leliana say _so do I_. But couldn't be sure. "Speaking of stories…"

Leliana burst out in a quiet laugh as she studied the rather pleading expression of the young mage. There was no way she would not tell him one with an expression like that.

…

Leliana had demanded to stand guard with Dorian, but had gently drifted asleep. Her head leaned gently against Dorian's shoulder. He was frozen stiff. One moment she was chatting away about her time in Orlais and her dancing lessons, the next she was lightly pressed against Dorian. Sleeping heavily.

He wanted really badly to move her so she would be more comfortable, but feared she would wake up. He even contemplated carrying her, but had never done so and couldn't be certain he would do it right.

_Magic?_

_I have never lifted a person before who was asleep and unaware. Jowan was completed alert to what I was doing when I picked him up to reach the top shelf. If Leliana awoke she may panic. _

Shale stepped towards Dorian, gently stepping so as to not make a noise.

_A Gollum sneaking… now that's a thought._

"I can take the sister inside. The doors are wide enough." She whispered.

_A Gollum sneaking and whispering… well now._

"Thanks Shale, but can you be gentle enough with her? To not squish her or hurt her in anyway?" Dorian whispered back. Shale stopped to think.

"It has a point. I have no practice with such things. Perhaps you should leave the Sister to sleep on It. Both the Sister and Mage look… blissful." He could swear the Gollum was smirking.

Dorian had thought of a comeback, but Leliana shifted and stirred. Dorian and Shale both froze.

"Huh?" Leliana said rubbing her eyes. She yawned and looked down to where she rested. Dorian smiled his usual crooked smile. Leliana lit up with the colour red. "I-uh-why didn't you wake me?"

"You seemed like you were having a nice dream…" Dorian said rubbing his neck. Somehow, her redness intensified. He wasn't lying, she was sighing and smiling the whole time she slept.

"I-Yes I was having… uh, sorry…" she fumbled over her words. For a bard, she seemed to do that quite a bit.

"No need to be sorry." He smiled.

"Yes… well… good night…" she quickly fled inside the Chantry. Leaving Dorian and Shale to stare after her, both equally confused with her reaction.

Dorian scratched his head. Wondering if he did something wrong. But, still remembering how… nice it felt having her rest against him. Peaceful. Comforting. It was a new experience for him.

He could still smell the lingering sent of flowers on his shirt. Which reminded him of what sat in his pack, wrapped up and protected, ready to be given at the right moment.

"I wonder why she acted like that…" he spoke quietly to himself.

"The Sister is one Arl short of an Eamon." Shale said, rather bluntly. Dorian couldn't help but chuckle.

"Zevran teach you that one?"

"Yes."


	10. Demonic Reunion

_Chapter ten: Demonic Reunion _

As the sun rose over the castle, the village once again came to life. People ran about busily, trying to repair the damages caused during the evening's battle. Most of the villagers, acted as if everything was fine. That nothing major had just occurred, that they weren't in fact close to death should their protectors fail. The fear of the possibility of their deaths seemed to vanish. People were moving on.

Dorian sat on the Chantry roof, observing the villagers scurry about. No one noticed him though, because he was not entirely himself.

As the night rolled on, Dorian became more and more on edge. So, in order to distract himself, he had practiced different animal forms for the rest of the night. He was finding the more he focused the easier it was to transform. He was now able to change into any animal he desired.

Eventually, he chose to remain in the form of a raven. It was a rather interesting way to observe his surroundings. He was able to see things at a great distance, and every sound and movement was easily noticed. It was also a very pleasant feeling to be able to fly. He could also hear the faint chattering of other birds in the distance. Nothing understandable, Morrigan had said communicating in animal form would take time.

Although he enjoyed being in the birds form, he had to remain well away from Shale. She knew he was a bird, but threatened to squish him if he came near her regardless. So Dorian remained perched well out of harms reach.

The Chantry doors opened and out stepped his refreshed companions. Zevran stretched and greeted Shale. Alistair and Leliana looked around, presumably for Dorian. He contemplated alerting them where he was, but thought it would be an opportune time to see them interact without having them aware he was listening. Eavesdropping, in other words.

"You sure he stayed out here?" Alistair asked while adjusting his cramped neck.

"Positive, I left him here sometime early in the morning." Leliana coughed at the awkward memory. "Perhaps he is with Sten."

"Or maybe the lovely Morrigan…" Zevran added with a sly grin. Leliana visibly stiffened.

"I doubt that." She grumbled.

"You suuuure?" Alistair teased. "They seem pretty close. Plus, you seemed a little… testy last time I mentioned anything."

"Dorian's relationships are not up for gossip." She snapped. This only seemed to add to Alistair's teasing nature.

_This should be interesting_. Dorian smirked to himself, well, whatever a bird does instead of smirk.

"What about yoooours?" Alistair began gently poking Leliana. Leliana rolled her eyes and mouthed _child_.

"Yes, yes, dear Leliana. Perhaps we should discuss your relationships." Zevran grinned widely.

"What are you talking about?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

"Well... this thing you and him have going? Doesn't that violate your vows?" Alistair sneakily asked.

Dorian pondered what Alistair was refereeing to. He wasn't entirely sure how a friendship violated Chantry vows. Considering Dorian wasn't the only one being friendly towards her. Surely they were not breaking any rules.

"What? What kind of question is that to just blurt out? What do we "have going"?" Leliana was visibly blushing. Alistair tried to contain his grin at the sight of an embarrassed Leliana.

"Yes, I'm that blind." he laughed. "I so totally did not see you ogling each other last night."

_Wait… what?! I wasn't ogling!_

"He was not ogling me!" she seemed to have read Dorian's mind. "W-Was he? Was he really ogling me?" her voice seemed rather hopeful.

_What is happening right now?! Wait… she was ogling __**me**__? She didn't defend she wasn't…_

"Now that you say it, I'm not sure." Alistair shrugged, putting on a good display of mock interest on the whole topic. "Maybe he wasn't ogling you. I don't know... I could always ask him..." Alistair was beyond amused.

Leliana was still blushing and Zevran seemed to be near rolling on the floor with laughter. If Dorian's form was capable of turning red, he would have looked like a robin.

"You can't do that! Could you? You couldn't do that..." Leliana seemed slightly flustered.

"I could. But I won't." Alistair laughed. "Next thing you'll have me pulling his hair and passing him love letters." He made a kissing face and batted his eye lashes at Leliana. Zevran continued to laugh.

_Those two have been spending too much time together. That elf is a bad influence! No more sharing watch shifts…_

"I... just mind your own business." She grumbled turning away. "How inappropriate!"

"It is rather cute to see a grown woman such as yourself blush like a school girl, lovely Leliana." Zevran purred. "But, he is a bit young and inexperienced… perhaps, you would prefer a man with more, skills?"

"No, Zevran I would not." She said bluntly, then realized what she had unintentionally done. "I mean…"

"Say no more, the lady has a taste for younger, sweeter men." Zevran winked.

Dorian was getting really uncomfortable hearing this. He was rather confused by the whole discussion.

"He isn't that much younger… and I was merely saying I was not interested in _**you**_!"

"Uhhhh huuuuh…" Zevran and Alistair both said.

Leliana looked positively flustered. Every time she opened her mouth to say something in protest, the two men grinned and wiggled their eyebrows, or something of an equally childish nature. Finally, she groaned and refused to look at her interrogators.

Dorian had decided to save Leliana from further probing. Even though he was rather interested in watching everyone interact when he wasn't present. He just didn't expect to be the topic of gossip though.

With a loud squawk he flew down and landed on Leliana's shoulder. At first she jumped, but then studied the bird closely. This was not an ordinary occurrence from wild ravens. He cocked his head to the side, just as he often did with his human form. Leliana smiled at the display.

"Dorian?" she asked.

With a hovering motion he flew in front of his friends and transformed back into his human form. Alistair suddenly turned red. Dorian straightened his robes and smiled at everyone, playing casual.

"Morning everyone. Sleep well?"

They seemed to nod and replied quietly. Dorian had guessed they wondered how much he heard.

"I'd better go let Sten know the ceremony will start soon and see if I can spot Morrigan. I'll be back." He said and waved them off. They were still in earshot before the conversation started back up.

"How much of that do you think he heard?" Alistair asked, rather worriedly.

"I'm not sure…" Leliana added.

"The Mage had been a disgusting bird for quite some time. It was sitting away from me on the roof. I'd say It could have heard most of the 'gossip'" Shale said, matter-of-factly.

"Why didn't you think to say anything!?" Alistair shouted.

"It did not ask." Shale said, rather smugly. Zevran continued to laugh hysterically. Dorian could imagine the red on Alistair and especially Leliana's faces.

_Well… that was interesting…_

_Sooooo… Leliana was ogling me… _

Dorian strutted towards the lake, where he last saw Sten. He didn't walk, he actually strutted. Feeling rather pleased he had been 'ogled' at. Though, he wasn't certain what it all meant. It was still rather flattering. A real confidence boost for someone who thought themselves not worthwhile to such acts. Despite being deeply pleased with himself, he was still completely perplexed by what it all meant.

…

The ceremony for the fallen hadn't taken long. Ban Tegan said a few words of condolence and remembrance towards those who were taken by the creatures since the attacks had begun.

He then did something entirely surprising to the mage. Tegan offered a reward for their actions. The noblemen praised Dorian his companions, and wished to gift Dorian with the Ban's ancestral helmet. Dorian couldn't accept it, it was something beyond value. He also didn't require reward to do the right thing. But the noblemen insisted. Dorian finally accepted, but decided Alistair deserved to keep it. Being somewhat part of the Ban's family. The Ban had also given Dorian's group a large sum of money, to help with their travels. Another gift Dorian was completely stunned by.

Once the Ban had finished speaking the Revered Mother said her prayers for the fallen soldiers and lost villages. A saddened silence swept over the crowd. Quiet sobs from loved ones could be heard amongst the words of the Mother. Dorian remained silent.

Once it was over Ban Tegan told instructed to meet with Dorian outside the town windmill to discuss the plan for getting into the castle. The fact the Ban had made a plan, seemed to confirm something with Dorian. Tegan knew a way to get inside the walls. Meaning, the Ban tricked him.

Before heading up the hill, Dorian finished up any business he had about town. He checked on the people he had met before the battle, ensuring they were still safe. Several of the people he met with, Dorian had even given decent amounts of coin in order to secure a comfortable lifestyle in their hard times. Leliana seemed thrilled by Dorian's generosity, while Zevran cringed with each exchange.

"So, it appears the good Ban lied to us." Zevran said as they walked.

"Appears so." Dorian agreed.

Only a few of his companions decided to follow. Morrigan refused to be a part of Dorian's 'charity work' and said she would meet with them later. Shale offered to help repair buildings, much to everyone's surprise, considering her opinions towards squishy village people. And Spirit was happily playing with the village children. Dorian decided to let him do so, it made both the children and the hound happy.

"Ban Tegan wouldn't have done it without reasons." Alistair tried to reassure.

"I know his reasons. He wanted help." Dorian shrugged. "But, he didn't think what it might cost us. He made me risk all of your lives, because he believed his men were unable to protect the village." Nothing bothered him more than lying.

"Yes… but…" Alistair tried to protest. "They needed help, he couldn't be certain we would…"

"That I understand. He did not know me, nor did he believe I would selflessly offer our services. I just think, things would have been easier if we were given the chance to stop the attacks head on. Cut off the snakes head. We could have been given the chance. He trusted me enough to risk my life for this village, but not enough to help come up with a plan." He sighed. "I just don't appreciate being deceived."

"Fear… tends to bring dishonesty out in everyone." Leliana said quietly. Dorian was unsure how to take her tone. Conflicted, perhaps.

"This is true." Dorian nodded. "And I understand this. Because he was thinking of the village's safety, I can look past this. But, he should be informed, I am not a man that takes lying kindly."

"Understood." They all seemed to say. Sten grunted in approval, or what Dorian assumed was approval.

They reached the top of the hill and saw Ban Tegan waiting beside the windmill, staring absently towards the castle. Ser Perth stood close by, directing his men on a course of action to help the village. The knight nodded as Dorian and his companions passed.

Ban Tegan didn't notice Dorian at first, as muttered to himself. Once he heard Dorian approach, he turned and greeted Dorian and his companions. A seemingly clam smile on his face, but his eyes darted back and forth nervously.

"I shouldn't delay things longer." Tegan paused, studying Dorian's reaction. "I had a plan to enter the castle after the village was secure," he continued to cautiously study Dorian. Dorian kept his neutral face. "There is a secret passage here, in the mill, accessible only to my family."

"I had my suspicions." Dorian began. "Why didn't you mention it before?"

"I knew you would choose to enter the castle instead of staying in the village..." Dorian shook his head, sadly the mage Ban Tegan all to well. "and we needed warriors… I'm sorry if I-"

"Keep your apologies." Dorian said raising his hand. "Know only this, trust is earned, not gifted. You entrusted my service to your people, but not with this knowledge. You wished my life on the line, and life of my comrades, but it was still not enough to earn your trust. It is only fair, I am to not trust your word further." Dorian said calmly.

"I understand. But you must see why I did so?"

"Yes, I do. The reason I am being level headed right now is because I would not abandon innocent lives. Surely, seeing I was willing to risk my neck for their safety was enough to see my intentions were not entirely selfish? Instead, you made me risk my friends with this falsity. Some of us could have used the entrance, stopped the attacks at the source, while the others remained to fight. Instead, we were all put at risk. You endangered my friend's lives. That, I do _**not **_take lightly." Dorian said calmly, but with a force to make his point known.

Dorian could sense his companion's eyes on him, he assumed it was the revelation of the use of 'friends' when speaking about them. He hadn't thought on using the term, but it seemed to slip out.

"Your compassion and courage is a thing of legends, Commander Warden…" Dorian froze at the title.

"I am not-" Dorian stuttered. He wondered where on earth the Ban got the idea Dorian was of such high ranking,

"Regardless, we must-Makers breath!" Tegan's eyes were past Dorian, wide and shocked.

Before Dorian or his companions had a chance to turn, a screeching sound echoed over the hill.

"_**Teegaan!" **_

Dorian stiffened at the sound. With his sensitive hearing, the voice had already began to give him a migraine.

"What in the name of Andaste! Who, or _**what**_, is that?!" Dorian ground his teeth.

"I have a theory…" Alistair laughed at Dorian's reaction.

"Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live," a blonde woman in elegant clothes shouted as she reached the gathering.

"Isolde? I-You're alive! How did you…? What has happened?" Ban Tegan stuttered with pure shock.

"I do not have much time to explain! I slipped away from the castle as soon as the battle was over, and I must return quickly," she stopped to catch her breath.

Dorian turned to Alistair with a face that clearly said _"Who is this?"_

"Lady Isolde, Arl Eamon's Orlesian wife." Alistair shrugged. Dorian pulled another face, clearly unsure what to make of the woman. Alistair had to hold his laughter in keep.

"And I... need you to return with me, Teagan, alone." The noblewoman, Isolde, continued.

"I thought people from Orlais sounded lovely… Leliana doesn't shriek…" Dorian mumbled, his companions heard him though, and each began a quiet chuckle. "We will need more of an explanation that that." He said to Isolde directly this time.

"What? I..." Isolde turned and took in Dorian's appearance. Her eyes scanned his ragged robes and scruffy hair, immediately she gave him a disapproving snarl. "How dare you speak to me! Who is this man, Teagan?"

Dorian stiffened. He did not appreciate the tone she gave him, after all he did to save this village. Dorian and his friends had put their lives on the line to protect _**her**_ village. He felt like he was back in the tower, a small boy being roused on by Knight Commander Gregoir for sneaking out.

Alistair, spoke up. Not allowing his friend to be disrespected by the Orlesian woman.

"This is Warden Commander Dorian Amell, of the Circle of Magi and the order of Grey Warden's! You will address him as such!" Dorian flinched at the title.

_Well, now we know who to thank for the Ban calling me such…_

_Is this going to be a regular… thing?_

_Quite the mouthful of a title. Doubt I'd remember it. _

"I-I apologies." She nodded to Dorian, but turned to glare at Alistair. "But, you do not speak to _**me**_ in such a tone, you are on _**my**_ land!" she seemed to study Alistair. "Do, do I know you?"

"You remember me, Lady Isolde." Alistair sighed. "Don't you?"

"Alistair!?" she seemed to recognize his face finally. "Ha! Of all the… why are _**you**_ here?" her icy stare seemed to look Alistair up and down. Alistair's confidence immediately crumbled, it was as if he too had resorted back to being a small boy.

"They are both Grey Warden's, Lady Isolde. I owe them my life." Tegan said with a humble smile and bow to Alistair and Dorian. Isolde seemed to cease her hateful glare.

"Pardon me, I..." she seemed uneasy speaking with Dorian and decided to completely ignore Alistair. "I would exchange pleasantries, but... considering circumstances..."

"Please, Isolde... we had no idea anyone was even alive within the castle," Alistair asked, she did not acknowledge him. "We must have answers."

"I know you need more of an explanation, but I... don't know how much is safe to tell," Isolde approached Tegan, back turned to the others. She spoke to him, and spoke him alone.

Something about the body language seemed off to Dorian. Overly familiar. Comfortable. Similar to how Jowan stood by Lily when he met the Sister. Dorian shot a sideways glance to Leliana, she seemed to be thinking the same thoughts.

_Awfully close and personal. Intimate even. I have as much experience with familiarity as a stick, but even I can see that… interesting…_

"Teagan, there is terrible evil within the castle." Dorian thought that was bleeding obvious. "The dead waken and hunt for living. The mage responsible was caught, but still it continues."

"A mage?" Dorian asked, rather forcefully. But was ignored as Isolde continued to beg Tegan. That seemed to explain many things to Dorian, magic seemed the most rational cause for the undead rising. The atmosphere felt similar to Soldier's Peak as well, the Veil inside the castle was weak if not torn. Dark magic was at work.

"And I think... Connor is going mad." Isolde continued. "We have survived, but he won't leave the castle. He has seen so much death!" Isolde's clung to Tegan desperately. "You must help him, Teagan! You are his uncle. You could reason with him. I do not know what else to do!"

"Something's not right…" Dorian shook his head. Something about this woman was off. Her body language was easy to read. She was covering something with this overdramatic charade. Though he was sure her personality was usually this… over the top. "Why do I get the feeling that you are not telling us everything?"

Isolde turned dramatically and looked ready to slap Dorian. It was obvious to the mage Alistair was loving her upset reactions to Dorian. He snickered at her shocked expression.

"I... I beg your pardon! That's a rather impertinent accusation!"

"Not if it is the truth." Dorian spoke calmly, which was hard when a shrew screeched at you. He could see it in her eyes, she was hiding something.

"An evil I cannot fathom holds my son and husband hostage! I came for help! What more do you want from me?" the woman's harsh tone turned to pleading. This only confirmed Dorian's original thoughts.

_She is protecting something, or perhaps, someone… _

Isolde returned to begging Tegan for help, her desperation was painful to watch. It was clear she did care for her son, that much was obvious. If the woman had not insulted Dorian the moment she looked at him, he would have felt compassion for her pleas.

Tegan had already decided he would go with her, alone. Dorian shocked, tried to speak reason with the man. But, his motive was clear. He had to help his family. Admirable. Isolde was relieved.

Tegan however, had another plan. Once Isolde was out of earshot, he gave Dorian his family ring and told him to follow through the passage and infiltrate the castle. To destroy the evil, and save Eamon. Dorian refused to leave the rest of them behind, to him one man was not worth more than the rest. Regardless of his title.

Once Ban Tegan left with Isolde, Dorian rubbed his head. A nice headache had decided to join his thoughts.

"What's the plan?" Alistair asked.

"Take a healing poultice so I don't hear that ringing sound anymore…" the others snickered. "You heard the man, into the haunted castle we go. Overrun by death and despair. Where a nasty great Demon is playing 'house'."

"You think it is a demon?" Zevran questioned.

"Positive, and it isn't a little baby one either. This one is big mean and doesn't like to be disturbed." Dorian sighed. "Should be fun. With a bit of luck, the mage who started this is still held captive. Wouldn't mind shoving my staff somewhere for helping to give me this migraine."

"Let's go then." Alistair said enthusiastically.

"Sten, you're in charge down here. Keep an eye on Shale and Spirit. If you see Morrigan, fill her in please. Tell her to somehow join us if she can, might need another mage for this."

"Fine." He said bluntly and walked off.

Dorian knew the Qunari was not keen on magic, so he thought it unwise to involve him. Sten's viewpoint on Dorian may have lightened, but the Qunari still wanted to murder every mage on sight. His judgment would be clouded.

"Alright. Let's go." Dorian said rubbing his temple.

…

Getting into the castle wasn't hard. The group came across many undead creatures, but nothing they couldn't handle. The tunnel leading into the castle was straightforward, and apart from the occasional visitor, accessing the dungeon was easy. As Dorian progressed further though, the more on edge he felt. Powerful magic was at work within the castle walls.

Finally they reached the dungeon, but as soon as the door swung open more undead blighters attacked. But once again, the fight didn't last long.

What did startle Dorian though, was the familiar voice he heard echoing from one of the cells.

"Hello? Is there someone out there?" came the man's rather squeaky voice. "Who is it?"

_Please Maker, no. Not this… _

_Anything but him…_

"By all that's holy… Dorian?"

Dorian approached the bars, a look of anguish across his face. Of all the mages, of course it had to be this one. His companions studied the man, unsure what was going on.

"I can't believe it! Dorian!" the mage croaked as he approached the bars.

"Took the words right out of my mouth… Jowan…" Dorian shook his head.

Leliana quietly gasped at the revelation of who this man was. Jowan seemed somewhat overjoyed to see his childhood friend, sadly Dorian could not return the happiness. Just hearing his voice brought back all the betrayed feelings.

Jowan was wearing ragged clothes, torn and bloodied. He looked malnourished and beaten. His hair had grown in the few months since Dorian had last seen him and he had a shaggy beard. Dorian looked unkempt, but he always did, Jowan was a man who prided himself in being groomed. A large purple bruise was over his left eye and a large gash crossed from his chin to nose. The dried blood was blackened with lack of care. His eyes were bloodshot, the normally bright brown was a dull lifeless shade. He was beyond pale, drained of all mana and starving. To sum him up, Dorian thought he looked like a Mabari dragged him across Thedas.

"Maker's breath! How did you get here? I never thought I'd see you again, of all people." There was no pain in Jowan's voice, only surprise and even joy. It disgusted Dorian.

"Why? Because you left me to die! Left me to suffer you're fate? Left me to clean up you're mess as always! Of course you would be the mage Lady Isolde mentioned! You always were the center of a hurricane!" Dorian raged. Jowan lowered his head. Memory returning of his betrayal.

"I-I…" he was unable to look at Dorian.

"You can't even look at me. You cursed how your own family abandoned you, then you did it to me, to Lily. You are no better! What have you done that's right by anyone? Now, you've brought this pain upon a family! Upon a child! Upon a village!"

"You've spoke with Lady Isolde?" Jowan tried to tiptoe around Dorian's harsh words. "Then… you know I… poisoned Arl Eamon. For all I know, he's already dead…"

Hearing Jowan speak brought back all Dorian's buried pain, all his hate. The coward left his best friend to die and now worried only for what he did to some stranger. Dorian felt his body tremble slightly.

"You… you poisoned the Arl! Just another crime you've committed, then!" Dorian stared dead into the man he once called his friend. Jowan refused to look at him. "Is he dead or not?"

"I-I don't know… I thought they told you. Unless you haven't spoken to them…" Jowan seemed near hysterical and Dorian was near breaking point. He wanted nothing more than to beat sense into the fool. "Please, I know how it seems. Poisoning the Arl was… a terrible thing…"

"Wow Jowan! I'm glad you're sense of right and wrong is still intact! I thought you might have left it behind when you abandoned me!" Dorian snapped.

"Th-that's not fair…"

"Isn't it? What isn't fair is standing in front of your mentor, and hearing him call you a traitor. A shameful excuse for a mage. To be told you betrayed everything you ever believed in… You lied to me, you _**used**_ me…" Dorian felt the sting of old tears, he pushed them away. "It's bad enough you left me for dead, now you've doomed more innocent lives!"

"I'm not behind everything else happening. I swear!"

"Explain yourself, now!" Dorian growled, causing Jowan to flinch. The mage had never seen Dorian so aggressive. It was frightening.

"B-before I say anything else… I need to ask you a question, please. You can do whatever you feel you need to afterward, but I need to know… What became of Lily?" Jowan finally looked Dorian in the eyes. The man looked broken, his bloodshot eyes watered. "They didn't hurt her, did they? The thought that she might have paid for my crimes…"

"You should have known better!" Dorian snapped, rather broken himself that Jowan cared not what became of him. That no matter what he said, the mage had nothing to say to him. No words of regret, no penitence. "The Chantry sent her away… I tried to stop them, to help her… I don't know where she is or what became of her."

"No!" Jowan finally broke, he collapse onto his knees and sobbed fiercely. "My poor Lily. She must hate me now… if she even lives… what-what have I done?" Dorian still felt angered, but also pitied his friend.

For a few moments, he left Jowan to cry. Staring down at the man he had known most of his life. This was not the cunning, adventurous boy he knew and admired. Dorian looked up to Jowan, trusted him. This wasn't his friend, this empty husk of a man was nothing in comparison to the Jowan he knew. This man was self-centered and treacherous. Or maybe, Jowan had always been this way… and Dorian refused to see it.

Dorian remembered the boy he missed so much. A boy who didn't let his own mother calling him an Abomination break him. A boy who remembered a happy life and hoped to one day return to it. Never giving up hope, always helping others to see the light he saw.

A boy who would laugh and tease Dorian for being such a 'spoil-sport' and 'teacher's pet'. The crazy child who would dare him to do stupid things. The young scamp who stole the answers off test papers. Who wined if Dorian wouldn't do his homework for him. The same boy who asked an elf apprentice out for Dorian, because he thought his friend needed someone. A boy, who always shared his snacks with Dorian. This, was not that boy, not anymore.

Finally, Jowan stopped crying and stood up to face Dorian once more.

"So, here we are again, the two of us… what happens now?"

"Are you responsible for what's happened here? Aside from a failed assassination attempt." Dorian asked calmly.

"And I thought my attempt was a failure..." Zevran snorted. Dorian ignored him.

"I-I know it looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle. I was already imprisoned when all that began. At first, Lady Isolde came here with her men demanding that I reverse what I'd done. I thought she meant my poisoning of the Arl. That's the first I heard about the walking corpses. She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe."

"I can see why she would think that." Dorian crossed his arms.

"She… had me tortured. There was nothing I could do or say that would appease her. So they… left me to rot."

Dorian couldn't help but wince at the thought of his friend being tortured. He couldn't help but stare at his blackened eye. He wanted to do it to Jowan himself. But, he still saw the little curly haired apprentice when he looked at Jowan. It made his hate difficult to focus.

"What I don't understand is why you did it? Why did you poison the Arl?"

"I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain." That, was not completely surprising. "I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him Loghain would settle matters with the Circle."

"Of course, Loghain is behind this…" Alistair snarled.

"Why doesn't it surprise me? You didn't do it because you thought it was 'noble'! You did it to save your own skin! Like always!" Dorian snapped.

"All I wanted… was to be able to return…" Jowan said, near teary eyed. "But he abandoned me here, didn't he? Everything's fallen apart. I never thought it would end like this! Maker!" Jowan smacked his head. "I've made so many mistakes. I disappointed so many people… I betrayed you! I wish I could go back and fix it. I just want to make everything right again…"

"So you should. But you're a blood mage… people find that hard to forgive…"

"I know…"

"Tell me everything you know."

…

"How could you let him go!?" Alistair shouted as they grew closer to the main chamber, the source of the demonic presence.

"Easily…" Dorian growled.

"I know he was you're friend, but he even betrayed you! He could do it again!"

"Alistair, this isn't the time!" Leliana snapped.

"Look!" Dorian turned to Alistair. "As I have said to you, don't like my choices, do my job for me. Would you want me to save Arl Eamon if I was given the chance?"

"Yes… but-" Alistair went to argue, but Dorian raised his hand.

"He is the closest to family you know. You hated him for sending you to the Chantry, you told me so last night. And yet, you would give anything to save him?" Alistair nodded. "Jowan… was my family. He was my friend, my brother. He left me for dead, and I hate him for it. He may have helped cause this, but he is not completely responsible and you know it. A scared mage is always an effective weapon, and Loghain knows that. I gave him the chance to make it right. I do not know if he will take it, but I prey to the Maker he does…"

"He is a mage, they cannot be trusted out of the Circ-" Alistair stopped, but his point slipped out.

"I see…" Dorian only managed to say. He tried to mask the hurt expression spreading on his face. Alistair had noticed though.

"I didn't mean-"

"How true. Mages should all be kept on a leash, right? So says a mighty Templar. I should never have expected anything different…" Dorian felt a harsh blow at his friend's words. He had begun to trust Alistair, and the Warden had gone and said such things. "Before you decide to make me Tranquil for having free will, I insist you allow me to stop this demon from completely destroying everyone."

With that, Dorian stormed into the room. Without a word, the others followed.

Inside the hall, Dorian saw a rather odd sight. Ban Tegan was jumping about, dancing like a court jester. Waving his hands and even rolling on the ground, something completely out of character for the proper noble. A little boy, he assumed was Connor, was clapping and laughing at the display. Lady Isolde stood beside him, a look of pain and heartbreak on her face. Several guards stood close by, all their faces glassed over and vacant.

Connor noticed Dorian approach, and ordered Tegan to stop dancing. His eyes fixed on Dorian. All at once, Dorian knew it was the demon he was looking for. As he suspected, the boy had been possessed. And by the amount of power Dorian could sense, this was no ordinary demon.

He felt the monsters power flicker as he approached. The demons eyes fixed on Dorian, everyone else in the room appeared to not be of concern. He felt the creature's interest in his own powers, attempting to tap into his mana.

"So, these are our visitors." The boy spoke, but to Dorian's ears he heard the familiar echo of a demon. "The ones you told me about, mother."

"Y-yes Connor. "Lady Isolde spluttered, tears in her eyes.

"This is the one who defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village." The demon's voice purred.

"Yes." His mother said.

"And now it's staring at me! What is it mother? I can't see it well enough!"

"This, this is just a man Connor. Like your father." Lady Isolde's voice was broken.

"Oh I am tired of hearing about him!" the demon snapped. "Besides, he's nothing at all like father. Look at him, breathing and not dying in the slightest. But I can change that..."

"Try it Demon of Desire! I fear you not!" Dorian threatened, sword and staff ready. The demon flinched.

"How do you…" its interest was rather peaked now, it was aware just how powerful Dorian was to identify a demon by feel alone.

"Connor… I beg of you… don't hurt anyone…" Isolde began crying slightly. Connor stirred.

"M-mother?" the echo was gone. "Wh-whats happening? Where am I?"

"Oh, thank the Maker! Connor, Connor can you hear me?" she reached for her son, but the boy smacked her hands away.

"Get away from me!" the echo returned once again. "Fool woman, you are beginning to bore me!"

"Grey Warden…" Lady Isolde turned to Dorian, no longer did she look to him with disgust. Her eyes pleaded. "Please, do not hurt Connor. He is not responsible for what he does."

He ignored her, instead he attempted to channel the boy's energy and mana through the demon. To see if Connor truly was still there. Isolde and Alistair exchanged a few words, something about keeping this from them and the boy not being responsible. Zevran may have said it was foolish to deal with demons.

The demon spoke again, claiming to be the one wronged by this intrusion. Even Ban Tegan said something in his enchanted state. Dorian blocked everyone's disputes out, he needed to focus. He felt something, a hint of light in all the darkness. The boy lived. He was faint, but there still. There was still hope to save Connor from the demon.

"But, let's keep things civil." The demon seemed to break Dorian's connection. "This man will have the audience he seeks. Tell us, what have you come here for?"

"You know why I am here, demon." Dorian growled.

"I'm not finished playing! You can't make me stop!" the demon snarled. "I think it's trying to spoil my fun, mother."

"I…I…I don't think…" Isolde spluttered.

"Of course you don't! Ever since you sent the knights away, you have done nothing but deprive me of my fun! Frankly, it's getting dull. I crave excitement!"

Dorian tried to reestablish a connection, to somehow banish the demon or draw it out. It was impossible, the demon was completely aware this time. It spoke of taking fun out of Dorian for ruining it.

Then, with a wave of its hands the guards and Ban Tegan stood to attention. Their eyes were clouded over, their bodies moved like marionettes. Controlled and mechanic. The demon ran off, cackling, leaving the guards to fight. It didn't take much to stop them, with a simple paralysis spell and a few swipes of blades then men were knocked unconscious. None of that mattered though. Connor, was gone.

…

The room was no longer silent. Everyone had erupted into an argument. Alistair with Isolde, Isolde and Tegan. Isolde with pretty much anyone. Since learning she hid her son's abilities, she had become a focal point of blame.

Then, there was Jowan. Much to Dorian's utmost surprise, his friend had returned. To set things right, or so he claimed.

Jowan, hoping to help, offered Dorian what knowledge he had on the demon. Because it had been left untested in Connor for so long, it would be near impossible to separate them. It couldn't be forced out either, because Connor offered himself. A willing host possession has a near unbreakable bond between the spirit and body. That was how the demon was so powerful, it was invited.

Jowan had suggested a ritual he had read about, one that required the draining of someone's life force in order to enter the Fade and battle the demon head on. Dorian had near struck him down, blood magic was not an option.

But, Lady Isolde offered herself in order to save her son. Much to Dorian's surprise, she was willing to sacrifice herself to right what she helped cause. To save her child. It was very honorable. Again, he felt a familiar ping of jealousy from a mother and son relationship. Regardless, this ritual was not an option.

"I will not betray myself! Blood magic is not an option, and I never will be!" He snapped.

Many seemed impressed by his inner strength. Claiming it admirable to see a mage so strong willed. Dorian wanted nothing more than to hurt anyone who said he was a credit to his people. It sickened him, so many assumed all mages would take the demonic opportunity once offered. That given the 'easy route' they would leap for the chance. He knew many mages who would rather die than give in. Some, did in fact. It was an unknown, suicide was a reason many mages died in the Circle. Rather than hear the constant whispers and temptations.

Many mages ran to blood magic as a last resort, as Jowan claimed he did. Dorian. Would never fall that far. No matter what.

There was only one other option. He would need to go to the Circle of Magi and seek assistance from First Enchanter. The trip would be long, and the chances of success were slim. All the villages' boats were destroyed during the battles, meaning he would need to travel by foot. It was a really risky and time consuming plan.

He had known for some time the visit was inevitable, as they needed their aid with the Blight. Perhaps, this was truly the best option. Despite the chances.

_Two birds, one stone…_

And so, Dorian's decision caused a debate. Because there was no guarantee when he would return, Connor would be at risk of losing control again. There was a chance the First Enchanter would be unable to help, due to whatever reasons. There was still the matter of Eamon's health, it dwindled each day. It was rather concerning, majority seemed to worry about the ill Lord over the rampaging demon.

"The demon is my only priority…" he said bluntly to everyone.

Not many were happy with it. The more the people argued, the more time was wasted. Dorian and Jowan stared at each other as the others debated over a decision that was not theirs to make. Jowan's eyes lowered slowly filled with shame. Dorian glared at his former friend, resentful of the problems the mage caused.

"Enough! You are all putting both boy and father at risk by wasting my time!" Dorian shouted finally. "I will leave with a small party, now."

"What of Connor?" Ban Tegan questioned.

"Jowan, will watch over Connor. He has been taught how to cast binding and paralysis spells, if they boy stirs he will do so to contain the demon." The room all seemed to think he was mad.

"You, you trust me?" Jowan said surprised and relieved.

"Know this, if you fail or betray me… I will cut your head off myself." Dorian said without a hint of emotion. Though the words broke his heart, and the look in Jowan's eyes did as well.

"Understood..." the broken mage said lowering his eyes.

"Alistair, I need you to stay here."

"What, why!" he argued.

"You are a Templar. You can subdue both mage and demon. If either Jowan or Connor become dangerous, you can drain them of their powers. Careful, they are two mages outside the Circle… be vigilant." He added nastily.

"Oh…" Alistair said, feeling rather ashamed. His cheeks reddened.

"Sten and Shale will remain as well. Shale is immune to magic, and Sten knows how to defend against demonic whispers. If all else fails, they will know what to do."

"And what of myself?" Dorian hadn't noticed Morrigan had joined them. "I will be traveling to the Tower also."

_That's… odd. She has vocalized her opinion of the place, why would she wish to go there?_

"Very well. Leliana, Zevran, would you join us as well?" they both nodded. "Spirit will of course follow me as well." The Mabari barked in approval.

"Maker guide you Warden Commander, I prey you return swiftly." Ben Tegan bowed.

"As do I…" Dorian sighed.

Dorian turned and left the castle, his comrades closely followed. Alistair stared after, with a heavy and desperate look upon his face. If the worst was to happen, he would not see his friends for quite some time. The guilt he felt for what he said, would drive him insane. He desperately needed to make amends. Somehow, he needed to make up for what he said.

Gathering their supplies, the small group left the village. Dorian preyed to the Maker the Circle would be able to help, and nothing eventful took place.

_My luck, the place will be up in flames when I arrive…_


	11. A Simple Gift

_Chapter eleven: A Simple Gift_

"Down boy, please go play."

Dorian pushed his overly happy companion away. The Mabari jumped and barked happily against his masters pushes. It was no use, the weight behind the mighty Mabari was no match for the mages minor strength. He could use a levitation spell, but that would be unnecessary. His dog was only being friendly.

Spirit desperately wanted to follow Dorian into the woods after setting camp, but the mage wanted to be left alone. The hours it took for them to reach a suitable camp site, Dorian remained silent, deep in thoughts.

It was Leliana who suggested he take some time off for himself. She volunteered Zevran and herself to deal with camp set up. Dorian had been grateful for the suggestion, a lone walk would have been nice.

"Yes I know, I have returned. I'm happy to see you also, but I'd like to remain dry if you would be so kind." He wiped the slobber from his hands.

Being so tired he eventually gave up struggling and allowed the hound to barrel his thin frame over. Laughing while the hound playfully tugged on his robes.

_Good boy. Always knows how to make me smile. _

"You certainly named him well, Spirit suits him so finely." Came the soothing voice of his Orlesian friend.

He looked up to see his friend standing by him, in her new leather armor. From his angle he had a very clear view of her legs. Blushing, he looked away quickly. Shoving the dog relentlessly, Dorian attempted to compose himself.

It wasn't until Zevran whistled from a distance, along with the clanging of a pot of stew, did Spirit finally stop his game. Leaving his master sitting in a heap on the ground, covered in dirt, grass, drool and various amounts of blood. Trying to remain cool, Dorian clambered back to his feet. Taking in how unappealing he must have looked, and smelled.

"Uh, hey… Leliana…" he said with his usual crooked grin. "Am I late for watch?"

"No, just in time actually. But, you are free to take a bath if you wish. It has been a long day. Zevran prepared some food for you as well." She smiled. His stomach flipped.

"Th-thank you, but I can't have you sit out here on your own…" he rubbed his neck.

"It's not too dark, I'm sure we can keep an eye by the fire while you eat and rest." With that, she grabbed Dorian's hand and reluctantly led him to the fire. His body went rigid at the friendly touch.

_Maker… her hand is so soft…_

He had to try and keep his mind on something else, but his jittering nerves were going out of control.

"Ah, the handsome Dorian has returned." Zevran smiled. "Diner first, or bath? And, the offer remains on the massage…" he added with a wink.

"Uh, thank you but I'll pass on the massage." Dorian said with a blush, reluctantly releasing Leliana's hand. She didn't seem to let his go at the same time, which made him fidget nervously.

"I think one day the offer will be too good to pass up, my dear Warden." Zevran purred.

"Perhaps if the offer came elsewhere…" Dorian slipped. He caught himself on the last word and inwardly cursed.

Both Leliana and Zevran seemed to be a little shocked. Leliana smiled coyly with a hint of a blush. Zevran shot glances between the two and winked.

"I seeeeeeeeee." He chuckled.

"I meant…"

"No need, I am only teasing." Zevran handed Dorian his bowl of Antivan broth. Dorian thanked him and sat in front of the fire.

While Dorian ate, Leliana absentmindedly played her lute. Dorian listened while he watched the flames dance. Zevran pulled out his pan flute and began his own music. What started as purposeless tunes, turned into a rather clever and bouncy song. Dorian smiled and nodded along with the music. He felt like dancing, but wouldn't know where to begin.

Once his meal was finished, he gathered his things and headed to the creek Leliana chose to set camp by. Leaving his companions to their merry songs. As he walked closer to the lake, he spotted Morrigan's tent. She was staring absentminded at her own fire. She noticed him and smirked.

"Have returned, I see."

"Yes, needed to… think." Dorian shrugged.

"You should have told me, I could have accompanied you." She smirked.

"Uh, just needed some time on my own… I guess." He felt rather awkward. She nodded.

"Tis a rather cold night tonight, isn't it?" Something in her voice was unsettling. Nerve racking.

"Y-yeah it is a bit cold. I think it may rain tomorrow." Dorian tried to smile. He felt a little uneasy.

"Well, if you find yourself in need of… company, you shall know where to find me." She smirked, then returned to looking into her fire.

Dorian stared at her for a moment, unsure what all of that was about. Shaking his head he continued to walk towards the creek. Crouching behind the bushes, Dorian undressed. As he removed his torn robes, he studied his naked torso. Several deep gashes had been left from the undead soldiers. He knew as soon as they happened it would be hard to completely heal. The weapons were enchanted, so the magic easily left marks. He shrugged, was no worse than the nice scar on his leg left by a werewolf.

_Scars add to character. Since you are abnormally strange already, might add a little mystique to your appearance._

_Yes, because I will walk around with only my pants on…_

Staring at his torn robes, he sighed. They were beyond repair. Large jagged cuts and several burn marks decorated the once purple robe. He would need to wear his new chainmail more often, sadly.

He removed the rest of his clothes and slid into the water. Feeling alone, he was able to relax in the clear water. Despite the night being slightly chilly, the water was nice. The cooling water soothed his burnt and bleeding skin.

Placing his body beneath the water he casted a healing spell. It could not do much for the scaring, but would stop infection. Dorian smiled as he recalled how often someone would approach him for either medical aid or to warm something. One person in particular, he never minded giving a helping hand.

Closing his eyes and feeling his magic work, he remembered the memory of Leliana practically begging him to heat any ponds for her baths. He has stared into her big clear blue eyes and nearly melted. How she made him do so, was a mystery to him. So, it was inevitable he would agree.

He would sit by the pond, wait for the water to warm to her liking, then leave. She would watch him do so and compliment how useful it must have been, and how incredible his powers truly were. He didn't always agree, but the compliment was appreciated all the same. Once or twice, she had begun to undress before Dorian had time to make it out of the area. Each time he noticed he would quickly shuffle away. Once, he had stared at her long curved legs for some time. Feeling the red spread across his face he noticed she was nearly out of her armor. With that he always left, feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

Sighing, his mind couldn't help but wander to the smooth sight of her skin. Her legs were always bare, but for some reason in the moon light he couldn't help but feel his throat close up as he saw them. They seemed to shine and dance in the dim lighting. He wanted nothing more at that brief moment than to know how soft her body was to touch. If her back was just as smooth looking. If her body had any blemishes. He doubted it, she seemed beyond perfection. But even if she did, it would only have added to her beauty. If she had freckles, or moles. He wondered how her body curved and shaped, if the tight armor she wore gave her any justice. His imagination tried to conjure an image of her naked back glistening in the moonlight by the creek. Then, his imagination ventured a little further…

"Maker!" Dorian cursed, cheeks burning with warmth. He shouldn't be thinking this way.

_What's wrong with you?_

_I don't know… but it doesn't feel… wrong?_

_She is a friend! Do not think like that!_

_Yes, you're right._

Shaking any lingering thoughts, he decided he'd bathed long enough. Feeling completely relaxed and at ease, he dressed in his casual shirt and pants. Gathering his things, he wandered back to camp.

Morrigan had retired, so he didn't think to disturb her. He noticed Zevran was sharpening his knife and whistling to himself. Dorian looked around to notice Leliana was at the watch post already, practicing her shots on a tree. Dorian couldn't help but stare, it was always such a fascinating display.

Her arms flexed as she readied the arrow, then quickly released as it went flying. As always, it hit the target on mark. She was truly amazing with a bow. But then again, she was just as equally skilled with her daggers.

Dorian was too busy watching Leliana, he hadn't noticed the sleeping Mabari curled by the fire. Stumbling slightly he cursed and gained his footing. The dog barely flinched and kept sleeping. Zevran's chuckles could be heard from miles around.

"Perhaps, ogling is best done when standing still for amateurs."

"I was just admiring her skills with the bow." Dorian said, ears heating up.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure that was not all you were admiring. With a goofy smile like yours, I'd dear say it was her lovely backside." He winked.

"_**NO!**_" Dorian snapped, overly defensive.

"Hmmm then the adorable smile perhaps means something a little more than what I would have expected. Interesting." The elf smirked. "Regardless, I am retiring so I am refreshed for my watch with the lovely Morrigan. With luck, she will allow me to admire her… closely." Zevran went inside his tent.

Dorian felt slightly flustered by the conversation. Exhaling heavily he tried to stop himself from blushing further.

He walked to his tent and placed the hopelessly ruined robe inside and grabbed his sword, journal and wooden pencil. Dorian was still amazed by the gift, Leliana had informed him of the name and the fact a scholar mage invented it. It was rather impressive. He then walked over to where Leliana practiced.

"Feeling better?" she asked without taking her eyes off her makeshift target.

"Much, thank you." He blushed slightly, recalling the thoughts that helped him to be so.

"I'm glad." She turned her head as she shot her arrow and smiled. Dorian took his seat and began to sketch the targeted tree. The arrows were all perfectly aligned in several circles.

Leliana continued to practice. Dorian studied her, it was rather remarkable. Sometimes, she would be cocky and close her eyes. But, like always, the arrow hit its mark. Dorian sometimes clapped slightly, she would turn and take a bow. But always remind him a tree does not charge or fight back.

"It is still remarkable…" he would say admirably.

Without truly noticing, Dorian had begun to draw Leliana. He drew her strong stance, legs spread only slightly. Arms raised in a perfect and precise position. Back, as straight as the arrows themselves. Bow string tightened as her arm pulled it back. Face reading the distance and calculating the exact spot the arrow would land. Hair, lose and yet hanging perfectly. Face, calm and calculated. He drew her as a warrior, but with still all her beauty. How he saw her. Finally, he finished. Looking down, he admired his handy work. In no world would it justify the real Leliana, but he had successfully captured his admiration for her in that single moment.

"It's an uncanny resemblance. Although, I would say you over flatter me with your skills." Leliana whispered in his ear. He jumped. He had been too busy studying the drawing that he hadn't seen her approach.

"I-I-I…" he fumbled.

"Thank you, it is truly amazing." Her words hummed in his ears, and her breath tickled his neck. Shivers ran all over him.

"Ummmm…" Dorian racked his brain for a topic change. "You know, I have heard many things about Orlesian spies." He said, trying to sound casual.

_Well… that was a casual topic change. Congratulations! You've moved up from weather to completely out of the blue facts…_

"There are many rumors about spies, Orlesian or otherwise." she said taking a seat beside him. "That is a bit of an odd thing to say. What are you referring to exactly?"

"I once read this book on how the guilds would often send woman to seduce their marks. Saved having to torture or kill uncooperative people. This isn't true is it?" Dorian had come to know many things about Leliana's occupation as a minstrel, but never truly heard much about being a bard. Zevran had confirmed what he read in books, stating bards were a delicate form of assassin. More a spy than murderer. Which was a relief.

"Oh, I see where you are getting at." Leliana said calmly. "Honestly? Yes, it is true. Seduction is a highly used tactic for finding information."

"You, never…?" Dorian asked, trying not to blush.

"Why wouldn't I?" Leliana shrugged. "Violence isn't the only solution. People respond eagerly to others they believe understand them. They seek approval, friendship, sometimes love. This can be exploited." She said matter-of-factly.

"You didn't use it on everyone though, right?" Dorian felt a little uneasy.

"No, only on the people I was hired to do so with. Often nobles, or people of power and status." She smiled slightly. "Do not fret, I haven't done so to you."

"Oh, okay…"

His negative mind began running through scenarios of false friendship. How everything was all a game. He pushed those thoughts aside. She wasn't like that, not anymore.

_You are being naive…_

"Well, I'm sure they didn't mind being exploited by you." Dorian said rather awkwardly, rubbing his neck as he did so.

"They certainly never complained," she lightly chuckled. "Well, they did… but usually after they found out what I had done. Never during." She stifled her grin. Dorian blushed. "Everyone can be seduced by the right woman, the trick is predicting who she is, and becoming her. Master the game, and no one can resist you."

_Rather confident in that, she is… A little overly confident if you ask me. Not everyone can fall for such falisty._

"And would you say you've mastered this game?"

"If I might be so bold, yes. I was quite good at it. Sometimes, all I had to do was toss a glance and a smile, men read such promises into such things and will go to great lengths to see those promises fulfilled."

"Not everyone is as shallow to believe such things." Dorian said, attempting a smug grin. "I'm sure I would have been completely immune to such charms."

"That is what they all say." She laughed slightly. "I suppose we will never know, will we? I'm certainly not going to test you." She smiled warmly. Dorian was a little offended by that.

_So I'm not worthy to play this game with?_

_I thought you were worried she__** was**__ playing the game?_

"Why not?" he asked coyly.

"Since we are relying on each other, we should not have a relationship based on insincerity, yes? That would be foolish."

"I see." He nodded.

"It can often be unsettling to some people. I would rather not toy with your emotions in this way." She smiled.

"Where's the fun in that…" Dorian mumbled. Leliana seemed to hear and blushed slightly.

"Alas, I cannot partake in this 'fun'. The Chantry frowns on… fun…" she let out an annoyed groan. She looked at Dorian under her eyelashes. "Of all kinds, especially the good kinds…"

"Uhhh…" Dorian felt hot under his collar. Leliana only seemed to keep staring at him.

_She is playing along… if you freak out you prove that you were wrong! Play along, smooth, casual, cool._

_Yes… because I know how to be any of those things!_

"What if I decided to use my charms on you, instead?" he tried to put on a smooth voice, similar to Zevran's charming purr. It was shaky and undoubtedly failed.

"Huh, that would be something to see." She chuckled slightly. "He thinks he can charm me? The most innocent and gentle man in Ferelden?" Dorian blushed.

"You… don't you find me attractive?" he sounded more hurt than intentional. It seemed to work well.

"I didn't say that," Leliana blushed slightly. "I did say it would be _something_ to see, didn't I?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Uhhhhhhh…" Dorian was certain her question was in fact a challenge.

"You're an interesting person. Sometimes I don't know what to make of you, but… I like it." She grinned. Dorian blushed and rubbed his neck. He couldn't keep a nervous laugh down.

"Ha-ha, I suppose I'd be a complete failure at it."

"Oh no, don't say that. I'm sure you'd be just fine. If it would make you feel better, I can fake being charmed." She winked.

"I'd hate for you to have to fake anything with me." He smiled, innocently. Leliana blushed and rubbed her neck, a truly amusing sight for Dorian. She then let out a small laugh.

"Ohhh, very clever. I see what you did there." She winked.

Dorian stared blankly. He had no idea what she was talking about. She looked to him, waiting for him to say something in return. He really, had no idea how to play this game. He thought he would take inspiration from Zevran, the elf seemed to have more than enough experience to go off.

"I know you want me, Leliana…" he tried to purr, but it came out raspy and awkward. Leliana let out an amused shriek at his words. Dorian's blush only deepened. Perhaps, that was not the best line to use.

"Silly boy, that was so clunky. Awkward… try again." She was grinning ear to ear with amusement.

_Maker… that smile…_

"I did make you laugh. Surely, it was cute?" he gave his crooked smile and threw his hands up.

"Maybe…" she giggled. "You certainly are a tricky one, _mon ami_." She continued to grin.

For a while, the two sat in silence. Staring up to the stars. Dorian couldn't help but smile to himself. As awkward and embarrassing as that was, it made him feel a familiar tingle. He felt happy, blissful even.

_How can one conversation with one person do that to me?_

He then recalled what he had gently tucked away inside his journal. Opening the front page, he pulled out the little bundle of cloth. He was very unsure how to give this to her. Any other time he wanted to give her something, he simply left it for her to find. This one was different though. He needed to actually give it to her this time.

"Um, Leliana?" she looked to him, still smiling. "I have… something for you?"

"What is that you have there?" she leaned forward to study his hands.

Without a word, Dorian unwrapped the bundle and presented the gift to her. Fearing his own words would trip him up, he simply looked at her coyly and smiled. Her eyes widened.

"Flowers? For me? Oh… they are beautiful." She took them, slightly stunned but still smiling.

"They… are your mothers, aren't they?" he said attempting to swallow his fear. With this, she looked at them with wonder, as if he had given her diamonds.

"These were her favorite. I… I haven't seen these in such a long time. They smell just like mother used to..." she inhaled the scent. Taking in the aroma, all the sweet memories flooding back. Dorian smiled, this was what he was looking for. "Thank you so much… for remembering…" her eyes watered slightly, but she continued to smile greatly.

"I am glad you like them." For a moment they stared into each other's eyes. Dorian could feel his heart beating faster. It didn't take long for him to realize he was staring and nervously looked away.

"I… am surprised you remember." Leliana said, not taking her eyes off the flowers. "It seems I talk so much, that it would all merge into one big noise…"

"I listen to everything you say. And I remember everything as well."

Dorian did not know why he said this, it was if his heart had taken control instead of his jumbled mind. It seemed to be the right thing to say though, he noticed the slight reddening of Leliana's cheeks.

"It is interesting… to see you so confident. I like this side of you. Not that I don't like the gentle, nervous side either. It is just… interesting." She looked up to him. "Like those first few weeks when we met, and you asked so many questions, but barely made eye contact. And when I approached you, you seemed to shy away and seemed like you wanted to run away." She giggled at the memory.

"Strangely, it wasn't all that long ago. Funny, how people change." He felt a little ping to the chest at that. Remembering how Jowan had changed. He hated how that day's memory kept creeping back. Leliana noticed his mood change.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asked kindly, still holding her flowers fondly. Dorian sighed.

"I suppose there is no use brooding over it all… It was just, hard, I guess. I wanted him to be punished for his crimes. But, I still remembered the little boy who dared me to put itchy draft in Enchanter Uldred's bed." Leliana's eyes widened. "I never did though, so he would steal my pudding. Jerk." He laughed. "I wanted him to pay, but not really for what happened at Redcliffe. But for what he did to me. Because of what we did, I will never be able to return. Because of him, I have been made to do terrible and hard things. To completely change who I am. I hate him, and I want him to pay."

Dorian shook his head and let out a large sigh. It had taken him so long to realize, Jowan wasn't entirely to blame for what happened at the Circle. Dorian had the chance to back out, to even tell Irving.

"But, I don't hate him… and I don't want anything to happen. In fact… I am grateful to him." He sighed once more.

"Why?"

"Because… Jowan didn't make me do anything. If I could go back, I would do it all again the exact same. What broke me, was that he lied to me. That he was a blood mage. Everything that has damned us, he turned to. And today, he wouldn't even justify why. Why he left me there, why he lied… but if he hadn't, I wouldn't be here now." Dorian couldn't help but smile. "It has all been a nightmare, believe me. Half the time I'm ready to run screaming or try and set myself on fire, just to escape this madness. But, it has been… an adventure. Like the ones I used to read about. I have seen so many horrible things, even helped do some. But… I have helped do great things as well…"

Leliana smiled fondly as Dorian spoke. He couldn't help but smile as well, it felt relieving to say what he felt for so long. To get closure.

"I offered Sten a chance to redeem himself, to make penance for his crimes. I found Shale, a living legend. And helped her find a piece of who she was. I gave Zevran a chance to do something right. I brought a young elven couple together, to live happily in love. I freed trapped spirits, and saved cursed men form a terrible fate. I saved an entire elf clan. I lead an army against the undead, and helped win the battle. I avenged my fallen brothers at Soldier's Peak. I have learned sword play, and become stronger and wiser since I left the tower. And I finally found… the family I've always wanted…" Dorian felt a slight tremble as he spoke the last words. He looked to Leliana, who seemed amazed.

"You… you think of us, so highly?"

"I would never admit it to anyone else, but… yes." Dorian chuckled. "Why do you think I traveled so far to help Shale, why I will search all of Thedas to find Sten's sword. Why I enjoy having Zevran tease me, Alistair bug me, Morrigan shout at me. Even though Alistair can be a bone head, like myself, I will always forgive him. He is literally my blood brother… I care…"

"But… what of me?" Dorian met Leliana's eyes and blushed.

"I… care about you also…" he rubbed his neck. "You have always been kind to me. No matter what. Even when I attempted to ignore you, you simply waited patiently. You listened, you shared… You… are very amazing… and…" he felt the words he so desperately needed to say cling to him, refusing to leave. Leliana stared intently, eager to hear. "…you are dear to my heart…"

Dorian instantly fidgeted and squirmed, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. Leliana only seemed to stare, wonder and joy across her face.

"I am so glad to hear you say so…" she said, rather shyly. Dorian thought she sounded adorable. "I can't help but enjoy to watch you blush. I feel terrible, but I often find myself craving to see it." She giggled.

"You…what?" Dorian chocked.

"Often when you complimented me, your red cheeks only added to the meaning. It shows your honesty." She smiled.

"When I…what?" Dorian was finding speech suddenly impossible.

"You have often complimented me. On my skills and talents, on my stories…once on appearance."

"I…What?"

"You spoke of how a lovely woman like me did not belong in the Chantry, how no other beauty would compare to mine. Well, maybe I exaggerate, but it was something like that." She cheekily grinned. "Honestly, you are the one with an impeccable memory."

"I… was being honest. I did not think I was being…"

"Oh, look at that blush. The fact you were simply speaking your mind gives me confidence in the genuine nature of the compliment." She winked at Dorian.

"I… I… um… is it warm tonight?" Dorian began to jitter about nervously.

"Being a living fire, I would suspect it is warm most nights, no?" Leliana chuckled. Dorian continued to fidget. He felt his face heat up.

Leliana smiled, leaned forward and gently planted a kiss on his cheek. Dorian froze at the touch, it was brief, but he swore he could still feel her soft lips.

"You are definitely warm…" she muttered, blushing. "You do not need to be so nervous around me." She smiled sitting back.

Dorian lifted his hand and touched his cheek. Shocked, pleased, overjoyed. Words wouldn't have summed up how he felt. He smiled, goofily, staring blankly into the woods. Right now, the Archdemon could have swallowed him up and he wouldn't have minded.

Leliana had begun to whistle like a little song bird as she stared up into the night sky.

…

Several hours flew by, and still Dorian stared blankly into the woods. Leliana, had not long drifted asleep. Dorian looked over to see her hunched over, breathing quietly. The position couldn't have been comfortable. And yet, she still seemed peaceful.

Dorian filled in the time left of the watch drawing song birds, writing the day's events. He felt upset recounting his 'reunion', but it needed to be done.

Often, his eyes wandered onto a sleeping Leliana. Seeing her eyes flutter as she dreamed always put a smile on his face. Forgetting the task of recounting the day's events, he unintentionally drew Leliana's sleeping frame hugging into her knees. Realizing he did so, he bushed and attempted to stop himself from watching her sleep.

He knew he should wake her, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He was a bit unsure how to gently wake her, she seemed to peaceful to disturb. Spirit bounded along quietly, it sounded as if he was dragging something. Dorian turned and saw the Mabari had brought him one of the spare blankets.

"What's this?" he asked rubbing his faithful dogs head. Spirit nodded towards Leliana. "My, you really are a smart fellow." Spirit wagged his tail.

Taking it from the dog, Dorian warmed it up slightly. Making sure it would keep her toasty. Leliana was still in her armor, so she wouldn't have truly minded if the blanket was dragged along the dirt. Spirit was just being thoughtful.

Dorian kneelt beside her, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. He sat, then gently laid her head onto his stretched legs. He was sure she would awaken as she did the night before startled, but at least she wouldn't have her head on the cold grass. Leliana sighed, and seemed to snuggle into Dorian's legs.

For once, the mage didn't feel uncomfortable at the touch. He just stared down and admired her. The slight wrinkles in the corner of her eyes smoothed as he brushed the hair from her face. His fingers gently stroked her cheek. He did so without need for thought, all sense had seemed to escape him. He just looked down blissfully at the woman… he was certain he had fallen in love with…

Admitting this to himself was one of the hardest tasks he ever achieved. But in doing so, everything seemed to make sense. Nothing mattered anymore, if people feared or hated him, if he was to die, if he had to give up everything. None of it, as long as she was there beside him. As long as she was safe and happy, that was all that mattered to Dorian.

Spirit made a snuffling noise and he curled up beside his master. He stared at Dorian, lopsided, tail wagged madly. Dorian looked at his canine friend and rolled his eyes.

"Oh… shut up you…" he whispered as he tussled the dog's large head.

The dog appeared to smile, then placed his head beside his master's sword. Prepared to defend his master in a moment's notice. Dorian patted him once more, smiling.

Dorian stared out into the forest night. Though his mind was elsewhere, he remained vigilant. Nothing was going to come and ruin this blissful moment. It appeared, he finally had something worth worrying over. He rolled his eyes at how story book cliché all his emotions felt. He was sure it was just his innocent naivety over dramatizing everything.

_You know… this can only end badly… just like every other time you've opened your heart…_

_Right now… I don't care…For once, I am happy. _

Leliana stirred in her sleep. She hadn't recalled going to bed. Last thing she remembered was watching Dorian take notes in his book. She could still smell the scent of her flowers, they must have been close by.

She could feel something flex beneath her head. Leliana realized she was not resting on any pillow. Whatever it was, it was muscular. Human. Someone's legs?

Before she had a chance to react, she heard a familiar sigh. She knew exactly where she was now. Untensing, she smiled as she snuggled back into her makeshift bed.

She must have fallen asleep on her watch, a very bad habit of hers. Once again, she awoke leaning on Dorian. Although, she didn't recall sitting quite so close to him. She wondered how she possibly fell asleep curled into him this way.

Feeling something warm wrapped around her, it suddenly made sense. A blanket? Had he fetched it for her? To make her comfortable. Meaning he must have actually moved her into this position. He allowed her to cuddle into him.

She instantly felt bad that he had done so, that she had fallen asleep yet again. Left him responsible for everyone's lives. That burden was heavy enough. And yet, she wanted nothing more than to ignore the guilt and lay there, feeling his body's warmth against her. To selfishly enjoy this blissful moment of comfort from the usually distant man.

She felt a warmth brush against her cheek, it was welcome against the cool night air. She froze realizing what it was. Dorian, was stroking her cheek… affectionately. She wondered if he was aware he did so. His fingers felt rough, scarred. They were unnaturally warm, like everything about the mage.

_This is… heavenly… _

She couldn't help but let out a rather large sigh in her blissful state. Dorian's hand froze. She knew he realized she was either awake or waking up. She silently cursed herself for ruining the moment she was sure would never come again.

"Leliana? Are you awake…" he whispered unsurely. "Our watch is almost over…"

She began to blink her eyes open, pretending to only just wake up. She looked around, fake surprised, and then smiled up at him. He blushed.

_Maker… that blush…_

"S-sorry… I didn't want to wake you… Spirit brought a blanket… and you seemed uncomfortable…" he tried to find a decent excuse. None of it made reasonable sense, this only made Leliana's smile intensify. He just simply did it, because he cared.

"That's okay." She yawned. "Thank you… sorry for falling asleep once again." She sat up and looked into Dorian's eyes, the bright blue magically beautiful eyes. He continued to blush.

"I can go heat the water for you, if you would like a bath? If you can go wake Zevran for me?" Dorian asked sheepishly.

"Please, that would be amazing." She stretched. "I won't bother Morrigan though…" she shivered. Last time Leliana attempted to wake her the witch threatened to light her lute on fire.

"Ha-ha, that's okay. I'm sure she'll be up on her own soon enough. She normally is." He smiled. "I'll meet you by the creek… I mean after I've warmed it, I'll leave of course… just, yeah." He jumped up and hurried off, awkwardly carrying his sword and book.

Leliana stared after him, wondering why he became nervous all of a sudden. She sighed, some things the young man did were rather odd and often unexplained. But, all part of why she found him incredibly interesting. She got up and laid the blanket on the snoring Mabari, patting his head.

"Good boy, you get a treat for tonight." She smiled. Spirit wagged his tail as he snored.

Gathering her bow and quiver, she headed over to the tents. With a spring in her step, Leliana walked up to Zevran's tent and called out for him to wake up. The elf grunted that he would be up… or part of him was up. Something like that. She wasn't paying much attention. Her thoughts were on the amazing night she had.

_I think that pretty much answers the question. Dorian does care about me… rather strongly as it would seem. _

She smiled down at the beautiful flowers as she placed them in her tent and gathered her things. Recalling the wonderful watch she just had, she wanted to mentally relive every magical moment.

_So many wonderful things he has done to prove so. He has shared many things with me, given me amazing gifts… and tonight…_

She let out a large sigh at the thought of waking to find herself cuddled into him, with his gentle hand stroking her cheek. She felt herself blush. She now felt confident in knowing her growing feelings for her leader were not unrequited. But, she also knew… it would be hard with Dorian. A man so fragile. Someone who never understood friendship, let alone romance. It would be easy to startle him, or take advantage of his naivety. She didn't want to do either, meaning going slowly would be the only option.

_He is worth however long I have to wait…_

_But… are__** you**__ worth it?_


	12. Acceptance of Another's Faults

_Chapter twelve: Acceptance of Another's Faults_

Dorian stirred and thrashed in his sleep. Cold sweat poured from his skin. His teeth ground together, locking his jaw firmly in place. His eyes flickered and batted, darting back and forth in his sleep. Silent whimpers could be heard in his tent. Spirit sat close beside him, watching his master with worried eyes.

In this restless sleep, Dorian dreamed.

Deep down beneath the earth, he felt darkness. He felt corruption. He could see it, the dark caverns leading to the Deep Roads. On and on the darkness went, trapping Dorian from the light of the world. He fell deeper and deeper. The darkness consuming him, surrounding him.

He could hear the silent beastly snarls erupting and echoing around him. Gurgling and growling, the unnatural speech sent shivers through the mages heart. Somewhere in the distance, growing closer a reddened lights could be seen. Flickering and dancing in the darkness. Dorian preyed it was a way out.

He followed it, desperate to escape the blackened world he as trapped in. But as he drew nearer to the lights, the sounds only grew louder. That was no way out. Panicking, Dorian fought to stay back, to escape the darkness. Something was pulling him. He had become no more than a puppet to the darkness, a slave. Hopelessly, he followed the sounds.

The snarls grew louder, and clearer.

"_**Soon…"**_

The growls formed into small words. Barely coherent, but a language nonetheless. The voices were wild and slurred. No Maker fearing creature could form such sounds. Not even demonic whispers sounded as barbaric.

Dorian felt his pulse spike, he felt a shiver take over his body. It was the darkspawn he heard.

_That's not possible…_

Finally, Dorian's senseless body reached the end of the tunneled darkness. He saw the source of the lights, fires burned and flickered, spreading far and wide over the chasm. The chasm, filled to the brim with darkspawn. They were marching, prepared, organized. Something he thought the brutes incapable of doing. He could feel their excitement, their enthusiasm to kill, to please. It became obvious they were unaware of the mages presence. He wasn't really there after all. Just trapped in this morbid dream.

"_**The mothers, we needs more…"**_

He heard the snarling voices demand. Dorian tried to hear everything, to learn what they planned. It seemed a useless feat, most of the language was a combination of snarls and grunts with occasional words. He did however hear the word mother used rather frequently. Though the meaning of the word was unknown to the mage.

He watched in despair as the monsters tore apart dwarven carcasses and devoured the flesh. He desperately tried to turn away, but his tainted body forced him to witness the beasts feasting. Snarling, growling like animals, they fought over the best pieces.

"_**Feed and feed, until you swell…**_

_**Tasty, tasty, it feeds us well…**_

_**Blood and bone, so goods to eats…**_

_**Scream and scream our tasty meats…**_

_**None cave save you, none can hear…**_

_**We feast and feast, the end is near…"**_

Dorian could hear a slurred and snarling voice chant. The words sent a sickening convulsion through him. He knew the darkspawn's 'poem' would haunt his mind. The darkspawn chattered and squirmed with excitement. Something caused them to stir and loose interest in their meals.

Whatever seemed to draw their attention, Dorian began to feel it as well. Something, was calling him.

A loud earth shattering roar erupted through the chasm, silencing the snarling. The sound shook the earth, vibrating through Dorian's feet. Then, as if it was never there, silence.

The air soured and staled. Not a sound traveled. The eerie silence was beyond unsettling. The darkspawn focused on where the sound originated. They stood almost to attention, an army ready to follow orders.

Then, Dorian saw it. A large dragon flew from a far off tunnel. Wings spread as wide as the walls to the chasm. Then, majestically it perched atop a cliff ledge.

The large beast was a deep purple, like any other high dragon. But it was not of this world. Its scales were warped and twisted. The appearance was that of burnt, rotting flesh. Yet it was obvious the scales armored the beast well. Its face was twisted, spiked with large sword like teeth. Horns protruded from its spine and head. Black barbed tips, venomous looking. Yet another defense against attackers. The wings were large and powerful, yet they appearance torn and damaged. Like everything about the dragon, it appeared undead. Warped with powerful magic.

Then, there was the eyes. The big, black eyes. Blacker than the darkness of the Deep Roads. Darker than any taint.

He felt them stare into him. He could feel the creature notice his presence. Sense him, even though he was not truly there. He felt a connection. It was stronger than anything he felt with a demon or a lowly darkspawn. This was different… powerful.

He seemed to understand the creature, even part of him longed to follow it. The taint inside him called and longed to hear the dragon's mighty song. To admire and worship the mighty beast. The dragon was trying to corrupt his thoughts, bring him further into the darkness. To succumb to the taint within.

The creature seemed to glow with a blackened aura. A darker version to the glow Dorian radiated. The aura spread to all the darkspawn, covering the cavern and its inhabitants. This added to their silent excited fidgeting.

Dorian felt it, it was pulling him in. Summoning him. The taint in his blood responded. He could feel himself being dragged down.

Finally he was able to will the corruption away. using all his training to banish demonic calls he was able to break free from the pull, but only barely. A voice, unlike any other, echoed in his ears. It sounded nothing like the language the darkspawn spoke. Unlike any sound the mage every heard. It rang in his mind, sending his body trembling. This voice, was the corruption in carnet. Soothing, lulling like a mother cooing to her child… and yet, terrifying. Freezing the mages warm blood.

"_**We are the end…**_

_**Do not fight us…**_

_**Or, you…will die…"**_

Dorian awoke suddenly with a panicked gasp. Sweat dripping from his black hair. He blinked back the darkness still heavy in his eyes. Gasping for air he tried to feel where he was. He was in his tent, safe and with his trusty Mabari.

Spirit wined and crawled over to him, nudging Dorian with his large nose.

"I-I'm alright… just…" he tried to calm his breathing. "Another nightmare…"

The dreams were becoming more frequent with each day. Alistair had mentioned at Redcliffe he was finding it harder to remain asleep. Dorian was usually unfazed by his taint infused nightmares, normally he dreamt of dark things trying to control him. With his training against the calls of demons, he was able to subdue the Blight dreams. But this… was no ordinary dream.

_How was I able to understand them?_

He rubbed his eyes, sweat beaded his brow. This was only something an elder Warden was able to experience, one closer to answering The Call. Dorian had only been a Warden for a few months, this wasn't possible. The taint was still fresh in him, he often found it hard to conceal it, like any other new member.

But then, he recalled what set him apart from other new Warden's. Avernus's potion, it promised to unlock the secrets of the taint. To understand, to control it. That seemed the only rational explanation.

_Oh great… Well, I guess it gives me the upper hand if I can hear the blighters and know what they plan…_

_Yes, because that incoherent rambling and disturbing poetry class, was understandable? _

_Perhaps… with practice._

He shook his head, trying to keep steady. It was still dark outside, he wondered how long he was even asleep for. He scratched his prickly chin. He was due for another shave.

"Well, I'm up now." He laughed. Grabbing his robes, he stared at them. There was no way they would give him any protection ever again. All the magic weaved into the fabric was long gone. Sighing he put them down. "So, clinky chainmail it is… at least until I get to the tower…"

The tower. If this day's journey was undisturbed, they would reach it in no time. The thought was not comforting.

He feared what it would be like returning. If everything he had learnt on his time away would flee once he stepped inside the confined walls. Would Gregoir try to capture him, did they believe what Loghain claimed? What would Irving think? Would he be forced to remain in the Circle? Without a Warden Commander to stop the Templars, would they have authority over Dorian?

_You forget… you __**are**__ a Warden Commander…_

He rolled his eyes at that title. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he heard the light pitter-patter on his tent roof. Dorian stared at the noise, completely unsure what it was. It was obviously nothing dangerous, since Spirit seemed to pant happily at the light sounds.

Opening his tent door, the mage stared out into the early morning sky. It was raining, a sight he was never given the chance to enjoy up close. Stepping out, he stared up into the fogged sky. The cooling droplets fell gently on his cheeks. He closed his eyes and let the water fall. He couldn't help but grin. Rain. Something he only ever dreamed he would see.

"This weather is ridiculous!" the elf's voice broke Dorian's blissful moment. "I miss Antiva, it never rains there…"

Dorian looked over to the clearing where Zevran hid under a tree. Morrigan sat, rather smugly with a clear force field stopping rain from reaching her. Dorian could feel the rain starting to soak his hair. It wasn't at all unwelcome.

"You guys can go get a few more hours of sleep if you like. I can take it from here." He grinned ear to ear.

"Why are you smiling like that…?" Zevran raised his eyebrows. "It is a little odd for you to be up so early and be rather cheerful."

"It's raining." He laughed.

Zevran shook his head, then without needing to be told twice, ran as fast as he could to his tent. Dorian could hear him shout over his shoulder _"lucky Bodan sells heavy quality"_.

Morrigan remained sitting, staring out watching the rain catch on the trees or splash onto the earth. She looked so calm, peaceful. Even happy. Dorian couldn't bring himself to disturb her. In those brief moments where she looked so content, Dorian thought she was truly beautiful. He could see in those hidden moments why men desired her. She was more beautiful when she appeared gentle.

Her head was tilted upwards slightly, eyes flicking open and closed. Her chest lifted and lowered slightly as she breathed. Apart from those small movements, she appeared as still as stone. Watching her briefly, he recalled how hard it had been to approach her the first night at camp. She had in fact, appeared to be made of stone. Hard and unmovable.

These past months, Dorian learned so much about the Witch of the Wilds. Her kindness and gentle nature, though buried deep, was something Dorian had come to care for. She was a very dear friend. She shared with him secrets of her magic, truths of her and her mother's past, and never really expected Dorian to do the same. He would do anything for his friend.

Returning to admire the rain, Dorian smiled up and let the water catch on his eyes. His eyelids flicked closed at the touch. Even though it was not heavily raining, his clothes were quickly becoming soaked. He could feel the cold, mudded earth beneath his feet. He wiggled his toes and felt the water move with his motions.

Water ran down his slender neck and traveled onto his torso. Droplets landed on his lips, he gently curled them to taste the fresh water. His mouth curved upward into a grin. He shook his head, sending the water gathered on him flying. Laughing to himself, he began to jump up and down. Splashing water everywhere.

He heard a friendly bark from his tent. Looking over, he spotted Spirit charging towards him. The dog joined in with his playful jumping, barking and wagging his tail.

Dorian broke into a slow run, holding his arms out to catch the drops as they fell. Spirit chased him as he laughed and ran in circles, spinning and twirling as gracefully as he could. He would spin and stare up, feeling the water fall on his face.

He was dancing, rather merrily. He must have looked like the biggest child. Dorian didn't care though, this was heaven to him. He felt the rain wash away all his pain and uncertainty. Wash away the Blight and all his struggles. In those blissful moments, he knew what it meant to be free.

He hadn't noticed, but Morrigan was now watching him bound and leap about happily laughing. She shook her head, thinking it beyond foolish, but also a small smile betrayed her.

Dorian and Spirit leapt and played in the rain for what felt like minutes, but it wasn't until the sun was fully up and the rain had stopped, that he realized time had slipped by him. By this time, he was beyond dripping wet. His clothes weighed down on him, dripping. He felt a light sniffle in his nose, the cold water taking its toll. No matter, he wouldn't get sick.

"Sometimes… being a mage can be useful." He laughed to himself. He never got sick, like most mages.

He heard a small chuckle behind him. Turning, he spotted Leliana watching happily from inside her war tent. Dorian grinned back, beaming with joy. She began clapping in amusement at his performance. Dorian blushing, took a small bow.

"There, you have finally seen rain." She chirped. "Everything you hoped for?"

"Better!" he laughed. "Sadly, it's gone now…"

"Looking at the still grey sky, I'd say not for long."

"Hmmm, as much fun as it would be to stay here and wait, we should probably pack up and head out before we get stranded." He sighed.

"Agreed." Leliana laughed. "But you might want to change your clothes."

Dorian looked down to his now heavy and dripping wet nightwear. He thanked the Maker he always carried extra clothes.

"Yes, I'd better get in my chainmail." He sighed and returned to his tent.

Leliana began packing up while Dorian changed. He peeled his second-skin shirt off and threw in onto the grass. Same with his pants and undergarments. All would need a good wash. He could hear Leliana threaten Zevran to dismember his tent while he still slept, the elf grumbled and got up.

Changing into one of his spare sets of clothes, Dorian groaned as he then strapped his chainmail on. Alistair had shown him how to do it, but it was still tricky. Finally, it was on. So he packed his things and left the tent.

Leliana passed him a few bread wafers and went to take his tent down. Dorian ate quickly and helped her. He wasn't very useful, but Leliana seemed to enjoy the attempt. With all the packs ready and tents folded together tightly, the group prepared to head out.

Dorian found it hard to walk in his clanky chainmail and carry his pack. Zevran often laughed as the mage attempted to walk straight. Apparently, Dorian walked as if he had a stick up his behind. Dorian rolled his eyes and kept walking.

…

After several hours of walking the group was forced to stop and seek shelter from the rain. As Leliana predicted, it had returned once more. Rather heavy this time. Luckily, Spirit found a small cave for them to hide in. Dorian grumbled and moaned, Leliana suggested it not wise to 'frolic' in chainmail. So he sat at the entrance to the cave and watched it pour down.

"This is why people come to Antiva…" Zevran wined.

"Rain is nice, though." Leliana chirped. "It offers to freshen the land and leave it a new."

"Yes, but in Ferelden it rains too much. I have been surprised it hasn't poured down our entire journey." Zevran replied. Crossing his arms in a pout.

"It only rains in certain seasons, Zevran. Antiva only seems to have one." Leliana rolled her eyes.

"Yes, hot. Like Antivan's themselves." Zevran laughed. Both Leliana and Morrigan groaned.

"Can the mutt wait outside?" Morrigan near shouted. "It is stinking this small space up." Spirit wined. "Not my fault you wished to dance with your master in the rain. Go do so again!" with that, Spirit happily barked and went and played once again in the rain. Dorian wished he could join him.

"This would have been much easier if Bodan was here, we could have all traveled in his caravan." Zevran sighed.

"Yes, and we would be there by now." Morrigan added.

"With such a small group, it was unwise to have Bodan's caravan. Would have attracted too much attention from bandits or otherwise." Dorian grumbled watching his dog enjoy the weather. "We are actually taking less travel time than I expected. We seemed to have avoided any attacks thus far."

"And been bombarded with terrible weather…" Zevran wined.

Dorian rolled his eyes and continued to watch the rain fall. He felt Leliana come to sit beside him. She smiled as she watched the rain as well. Dorian looked down in the corner of his eyes. Leliana's hand sat dangerously close to his. Looking at it, he couldn't help but picture his entwined with hers.

To feel her soft hand in his. He felt his stomach jitter. His eyes looked up and noticed Leliana was watching him in the corner of her own eyes, a small smile touched her lips. Dorian's eyes studied her lips. Pinked, and curved upwards slightly. Full and shapely. How most of her body appeared, he thought rather cheekily. He wondered how soft they would be to touch. He recalled the gentle press on his cheek… would it feel as soft on his own lips…

"Ah, it seems the rain is stopping." Zevran chirped, rushing out of the cave into the now rainless sky. Dorian cursed him silently for breaking his moment.

_This is all getting a little… strange… this obsession._

_I don't care… _

_Maybe you should. _

He sighed and left the cave. They had a few hours journey left to travel. Zevran hoped aloud the rain had completely left. Dorian regretfully wished so as well, nightfall would approach soon enough. They had lost so much day light waiting in the cave.

…

Dorian walked along, whistling a familiar sound. It was a long time since he made the gentle tune with his lips. Morrigan and Zevran were far ahead, Dorian had guessed Morrigan was trying to out walk the elf. Spirit chased butterflies behind him, quietly barking at the creatures.

"That sound," he heard Leliana approach. "It is a nightingale call, is it not?"

"That's the one." He smiled.

"It is a rather uncanny imitation. I had thought you were in bird form for a moment." She grinned. "It is pleasant music."

"Yes, it is." He sighed. "I often miss hearing it. There doesn't seem to be many in the woods. I thought I heard some in the Bricillian, but the constant howls made me uncertain."

"In Orlais, nightingales are everywhere. Sadly, some noblewomen keep them as pets. Caged, so their music they can enjoy whenever they wish."

"That is sad. Such beautiful creatures should be free."

"I agree, such _magically_ amazing and beautiful creatures should be free." She smirked.

"Are we still talking about the birds?" Dorian chuckled.

"Of course, what else would we be talking about?" She grinned.

"I wonder…" Dorian smirked to her. "You know, the greenhouse in the Circle of Magi was abundant with nightingales."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's not a well-known fact. No one knows where they came from. One day, apparently the room was filled with them. They must have flown in through the windows and decided to make it their home. No matter what the Templars did, they would come back." Dorian laughed at how silly it was the birds chose to be there.

"That would have been quite the sight and sounds." She smiled.

"Probably the nicest thing about the Circle, was the music that echoed the walls. Thanks to the little birds. I would often sit in the greenhouse for hours and listen to them. Eventually, I learnt how to call. Sometimes, when I was sad or lonely, I would sit and call the nightingales, and they would come and sing to me."

"That sounds lovely."

"It was a bit of sanctity in a place of hardship." He sighed.

"You don't speak of your time there all that often…" Leliana gently pressed.

"No, I don't do I." he laughed. "It wasn't a very… easy, time. It's just simpler… to try and forget."

"Not many know what happens behind those walls. Would it not be better to tell of your struggles?"

"Would anyone want to hear? Would it change anything?" Dorian shrugged. "Only some care to hear our plight. To hear of the horrors inflicted upon us. Besides, I am not the voice my people need…"

"What do you mean?"

"I was the ideal mage. Followed the rules, kept to myself. Beyond powerful, but always kept it caged. I was being groomed since I arrived to become the next First Enchanter. The one moment I didn't obey their rules… I ended up on death row. I complain a lot, but I was more than lucky. Many would have believed I squandered what I had. Probably, why I resented Jowan. I believed I was in fact lucky." He shook his head. "It only takes witnessing the right of Tranquility on a renegade mage to learn how 'lucky' you are."

Leliana stared forward, processing what Dorian had said. For a time, the two walked in silence. Dorian sighed, he had let his hate speak of his experience. There were things that he did miss about the tower. It wasn't always torture and death, though the way he often spoke about it, many would have gotten that impression.

"There were… moments, when I thought I was happy growing up. When I was younger, my life was easier. The Templars tend to be gentle with children, as long as they try hard to control their powers."

"Do you miss anyone from your old life?"

"Some." He sighed. "As you know, Jowan was my only true friend. But, there were others I knew since I arrived. Their company was always tolerable. I certainly knew everyone in the tower and seemed to get along fine with them. I just… preferred to be alone sometimes." He shrugged.

Leliana nodded, something about her demeanor seemed to switch.

"Thank you." She said, rather sadly.

"For?" he looked to her questioningly.

"Allowing me to become your friend. Trusting me."

"Oh, you are welcome." He grinned. She remained sad though.

"That… makes what I have to say even harder…" she sighed.

Dorian stopped, Leliana turned to study his reaction. Something about him seemed to flick alive. He was no longer aware of her presence, only the surrounding forest. The blue in his eyes began to glow slightly. He was no longer the gentle mage Dorian, he had changed into a Darkspawn hunting Grey Warden. Leliana began to question what was wrong, he raised a hand as his eyes glanced around. He felt something travel through the wind.

"Morrigan, Zevran!" he called, the two instantly stopped and backtracked. Leliana's face became incredibly worried.

"What is it Dorian?" Zevran asked, picking up immediately his expression.

"Darkspawn. A _lot_ of darkspawn." His companions drew their weapons. "No, not here. But, they are in the direction we are heading."

"How many can you sense?" Morrigan asked.

"Can't say. They are quite far off, but I can still sense them. Meaning, they are traveling in very large numbers."

"What should we do?" Leliana stared into the direction Dorian looked.

"I can't go any further, if I do they will sense me. The number of them would overwhelm us easily." Dorian rubbed his brow. "Morrigan, I need you to fly overhead and find exactly where they are, then pinpoint a different route. We need a lot of distance between us."

"Very well." With that, the witch took flight as a falcon.

"What of us?" Zevran asked, sheathing his daggers.

"We will need to wait here until she returns."

Zevran began walking into the trees nearby.

"Where are you going?" Dorian called. "You need to stay close in case the darkspawn move."

"Relax, I'm not going far. I'm feeling a little antsy, so I'm going for a walk. Being cooped up in that cave has made me thirst for fresh air. I will be back." The elf waved off the mages concern. "You two love birds enjoy the alone time." He winked and continued to walk off.

"Insufferable elf… I still wonder why I trust him." Dorian shook his head.

"Why do you?" Leliana raised her eyebrows and smiled lightly.

"I have this ability to read people rather well." He shrugged. "Which is odd, for someone who has as much experience with people as a hermit who lives in the Deep Roads." He laughed.

Finding a shaded spot, Dorian and Leliana sat down next to their packs. Spirit explored to woods nearby.

"I can trust anyone to work with me and fight by my side easily, whether I trust someone enough to be close in other ways is a different story though." Dorian shrugged.

"How do you 'read' people?" she asked, rather nervously.

"Years of studying people from afar, you pick a few things up. Take Zevran, he remains eye contact at all times. Common trait for shamelessly confident people, which tends to go in toe with honesty. When he lies, his eyes dart and the corner of his mouth might twitch. Jowan had similar qualities. Though, he would hang his head in shame when caught lying. He was a little sneakier than Zevran. Zevran seems to not try, shameless as he is. No need to really lie."

"And Alistair?"

"Oh, he's easy. His face always perfectly matches his feelings. Blushing is a dead giveaway… I know personally blushing is a large sign for whatever you are feeling." He rubbed his neck. "His voice tends to squeak when he's upset over something as well. Morrigan calls it his 'winey tone'." Dorian laughed.

"Morrigan then?" Leliana crossed her arms and hid her smirk. She was finding Dorian's summaries rather amusing.

"It's all in the eyes. They seem to light up when she's happy. Dull when otherwise. Narrow when angered. They betray her often." He smiled. Leliana bit the corner of her lip. A trait he had often noticed. He concluded that her reaction was perhaps one sparked by jealousy or worry.

"Sten and Shale." She smirked. A near impossible task to understand those two companions.

"At first, Sten was hard. But, the Qunari speaks his mind, so reading him isn't always needed. Again though, his eyes betray him. Watching him before a battle, they light up with excitement. Sometimes, they can even show warmth. I have seen it when he interacts with Spirit. Shale, it's in her voice. At first, it may sound blunt and monotone, but if you listen carefully it's to the contrary."

"Impressive." Leliana nodded.

"Well?" she looked to him, eyebrow raised. "Not going to ask about yourself?"

"I doubt you can read me." She scoffed. "Bard training helps to keep emotions hidden."

"We all have our moments." Dorian smiled. "I'm not the only one who blushes, you know."

Leliana couldn't help but laugh slightly. Dorian kept smiling at her. There were many things he noticed about her. It was her silences that gave her away, that was how he knew she didn't reveal everything of her past. He could tell when something troubled her, when she was nervous, or happy. When she was embarrassed, that was his favorite one to observe.

"Then, you are probably already aware...I-I lied to you… about why I left Orlais." She looked to Dorian, tears in her eyes.

"I… I had suspected you didn't tell me everything…" he always knew, he didn't really think it was lying though. He too hadn't shared everything upon meeting her. "We each have our secrets." He smiled understandingly. It seemed to calm and shock Leliana slightly.

"I-I didn't feel like talking about it back then. What happened to me… maybe it will affect us, maybe not, but you should know…"

Dorian embraced the term 'us' then recalled this was no time to think on his unhealthy infatuation.

"I came to Ferelden and the Chantry because I was being hunted, in Orlais." She continued, eyes focused forward.

"Hunted?" Dorian felt his heart stop. "What for?"

"I was framed, betrayed by someone I thought I knew and could trust. Marjolaine… she was my mentor… and friend. She taught me the bardic arts. How to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a high-born lady, to blend in as a servant. The skills I learned I used to serve her, my bard-master, because… I loved her… and because I enjoyed what I did."

Dorian couldn't help but catch the word love as it left her mouth. Shamefully, he felt a ping of jealousy. He knew it foolish, she didn't belong to him, and this was her past. The fact she loved a woman was no longer shocking, thanks to her past explanations of love having no limitations.

"You, loved her?" he asked gently.

"She was a remarkable woman. I cannot fully express the admiration I had for her, or the depth of my affection. I thought I knew her. My devotion to her blinded me to her… less than noble attributes. You can say it was my fault..."

"No. I will not." Dorian frowned. Leliana continued.

"There was a man I was sent to kill. I was to bring Marjolaine everything he carried. I don't know who this man was. She gave me a name and a description, and I hunted him down. I found documents on his body… sealed documents…"

"Important documents?" Dorian leaned forward, enthusing her to continue.

"It turns out... that they were. My curiosity got the better of me. Something told me that I needed to know what was in those letters. Marjolaine… had been selling all kinds of information about Orlais to other countries. Nevarra and Antiva, among others. It was treason."

"But…" Dorian scratched his prickly beard. "Isn't that what bards do?"

"My life as a bard taught me that my loyalties should be kept fluid. My concern was not that she was a traitor, but that her life would be in danger if she was caught. Orlais has been at war with so many countries. It takes a harsh view of such things… as I later discovered."

"Wh-what do you mean?" the pain in the woman's eyes was frightening him, he feared what she might have revealed to him.

"I should have left well enough alone, but I had to tell Marjolaine I feared for her life. She brushed aside my concerns. She admitted her guilt, but said it was in the past. That is why the documents had to be destroyed, she said. I believed her. I kept believing…" her voice hitched. An inner tormented memory replayed in her mind. "Up until the moment they showed me the documents, altered by her hand to make me look the traitor."

Dorian could tell something was amiss in her story. Her voice had changed, calmed. She was hiding something. Because of shame, or the pain of recounting, Dorian was unsure of.

Dorian detested those who lied for personal gain, but Leliana was tormented by the truth. If it was easier to leave everything out, so be it. He too held the more morbid facts of his past from her.

"She betrayed you?" he eventually said, a small frown atop his forehead.

"Yes…" the tears swelled once more. "The Orlesian guards… they captured me… did terrible things to make me confess and reveal my conspirators." One of her hands raised to her stomach, and began absentmindedly drawing small lines across her armor. Her eyes focused on the ground in front. "It was a traitor's punishment I endured, and at the end of it, all that awaited me was eternity in an unmarked grave."

"That… I-I am sorry…" Dorian was a loss for words. "You never sought revenge on Marjolaine for this?"

"No. Survival was my only concern at the time." Again, something flickered in her eyes. "The skills Marjolaine taught me were good for something, at least. I broke free when I saw the opportunity. I did not seek Marjolaine out… If she thought I was coming for her, she would have me caught again."

"So you came to Ferelden, to Lothering?"

"I was tempted to confront her… I was furious, betrayed, but what could I do against her? And so I fled to Ferelden, to the Chantry and the Maker. Ferelden protected my person, and the Maker saved my soul."

"It makes sense now." He smiled, trying to hide the pain he felt for her. "Why your beliefs are dear to you. I understand it now."

"And that is the reason I am here…" finally, the tears began to fall. Wiping them away, she tried to hide her face. Dorian felt an urge to leap to her, to hold her. His nerves and fear kept him rooted. It wasn't until her body began to shake under the force of her tears, did he finally go and embrace her.

Just as she did many, many nights ago, he comforted her when she needed it. Holding her head against his chest, he tried to mimic what she once did for him. Rubbing his hand against her back, rocking back and forth slightly, humming any tune that came to mind. She began to try and push away, just as he once did.

"No, I- I can't… no more lying, at least not with this…" she attempted to speak between sobs, looking up desperately to Dorian's eyes.

He struggled to calm his frown, so many emotions were flowing. The main one… hate for this mystery woman who broke Leliana's heart. But, what he felt didn't matter. What mattered was Leliana knew he cared, despite it all. Pressing a finger to her lips he stopped her from explaining further.

"One day, when you are ready…" he whispered, with a warm smile. "Thank you for trusting me, no matter what."

"It… it feels good to have this off my chest." She lightly sobbed, pulling his hand to her cheek. "Thank you for listening and understanding."

"I learnt from the best." He grinned his familiar crooked grin. Leliana smiled.

Something in her eyes flickered. She had begun to lean in closer to Dorian, eyes darting from his lips to his eyes. Dorian felt a nervous stab. Also, a guilty one. He felt she was too emotional to know what she was doing, but he didn't want to stop her in case she got the wrong idea. So he sat and watched her slowly but surely get closer. Paralyzed.

Suddenly, and thankfully, a falcon's call could be heard getting closer. Snapping up, Dorian jumped, laughing nervously and began backing away. Leliana stared, a small smile and blush across her face.

"I-uh-will be back… once I see what Morrigan knows." She nodded. Dorian marched over to where Morrigan had landed.

"We will not be making it to the tower tonight." She growled. "The darkspawn are heading past that way as we speak. It will take till noon tomorrow before we reach it safely."

"Andraste's Flaming Vengeance!" Dorian rubbed his head. Each day they were closer to losing Redcliffe. "I just hope Alistair has the place under control…"

"Of that, I doubt." Morrigan snorted.

"No sign they will pass us if we camped close by?" Dorian sighed, hoping for the best.

"No, they are headed north. We should be undisturbed. My guess, they are returning to the Frostback Mountains."

"Why would they return? Darkspawn do not 're group'. And the large number I felt… something doesn't add up."

"Why indeed. The horde at Ostagar simply submerged into the ground. Perhaps, they are searching for something? Or, someone?"

Dorian felt a shudder. His mind suddenly returned to his dream.

"As long as you are certain they will not pass this way?"

"If they were in fact looking for you, I'd dear say their search ended." Morrigan had read his expression easily. How she did so was unnerving. "So organized, seems they would only turn around if you kept moving. Tis unwise to go further, despite having some day light."

"Yeah… looks like camp will be here."

"I already alerted the elf of our predicament. He is not overjoyed. I passed him not long ago, he should be returning soon enough. Will be a thrill." She groaned, passing Dorian to enter the woods. "Oh, and I would like to speak with you privately this night." She called over her shoulder.

_Okay, wonder what about?_

Dorian sighed and signaled Leliana to approach. Spirit retrieved his pack and tent roll for him.

"What's the plan?"

"We have to bunk down… they won't be far enough till noon." Dorian sighed, Leliana simply nodded and followed the path Morrigan lead.

"Looks like we better check the area boy." Spirit barked enthusiastically.

_Why can't anything go according to plan? _


	13. Understanding Boundaries

_Chapter Thirteen: Understanding Boundaries _

Dorian's body shook as it regained human form. For some time he had been in wolf shape, scouting the area for any possible enemies. It seemed safe enough. He was also curious to see if a dog form would allow him to communicate with Spirit, oddly it did not. Many said Mabari were incredibly smart, perhaps they communicated a different method than most animals. Still, Spirit stayed close beside his master.

"Land seems secluded, shouldn't be found easily by bandits, or other unwanted visitors." Dorian thought aloud. Spirit barked in agreement. "But just in case, are you willing to keep watch boy?" another approving bark. "You never fail to impress, my fine friend." Dorian grinned.

As he grew closer to the others, he could hear Zevran discussing something with Leliana. Leliana seemed close to yelling at the elf. Curious, he kept a small distance hoping to overhear what was being said.

"So, I imagine it has been some time for you, Leliana." Zevran purred as he prepared the meal. Leliana was setting the fire pit up for Dorian to light, her face frozen in a scowl.

"Some time for me? I do not know what you mean." She looked at him suspiciously but maintaining her cross facade.

"Some time since you last knocked boots, shall we say? You did just come from the cloistered life, no? You just said you spent two years there, and that you never…"

"Of course it has been some time!" she squeaked, cheeks reddening. "There are more important things in life than "knocking boots," Zevran."

_Knocking boots? Dancing?_

"Oh, I'll not argue that. I simply mean that the body has urges, urges given to us by the Maker. Yours must be... considerable. After all that time." The elf snickered.

_Are they talking about…?_

"That is a very personal question." She scoffed.

"I mean no offense. I simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release." He smirked deviously.

Dorian felt his cheeks reddening. He fidgeted nervously, wondering if it was too late to reveal his presence without alerting them he overheard the discussion.

Leliana shook her head, it was clear she was not going to respond. But then, something twinkled in her eyes, a mischievous grin crossed her lips.

"That's very kind of you." She grinned. "Perhaps I should speak to Dorian for advice on whether or not to accept your offer?"

_I-what!?_

"Adventure has changed you, Leliana." Zevran sighed.

"For the better, I hope." She chuckled.

"So, I need to ask the Warden's permission? Does that make it official?" Zevran cheekily asked. Dorian, feeling a sense of chivalry, thought to interject and save Leliana.

"Ask me what?" he smiled stepping into the clearing. "What's official?" Leliana snapped up and grinned widely at him, cheeks still slightly pink.

"Well…" Zevran started with a cheeky grin. Leliana jumped up and interrupted.

"Nothing, just whether to use your herb supply for supper. You are the official expert after all." She laughed nervously.

"Oh…" Dorian tried to act coy. "Yeah sure, Zevran knows which are the nicest. And to leave my mint stash _alone_." He smiled.

_That was quick thinking on her behalf. Bard talent, I presume. _

"You and your mint stash…" Zevran laughed.

"I am partial to the taste." Dorian shrugged. That was an understatement.

"An interesting note…" Zevran glanced to Leliana. "Some of us should pay attention to that one…"

Leliana shot Zevran a warning glare then returned to the fire pit. Dorian went to his tent, grin across his face.

"_Perhaps I should speak to Dorian for advice on whether or not to accept your offer?"_

_That's rather ominous… wait, they were talking about…and she brought me up… Oh Maker._

He felt a lump in his throat. That was an interesting thought. It seemed as though they were talking about perhaps sexual relations, and Dorian came into the conversation. More accurately, they were talking about Leliana and sexual relations… and Dorian was mentioned. The thought sent his stomach jumping. He fumbled with his chainmail's straps, unable to fully focus.

It must have been obvious to all of them now that Dorian hadn't… well, that he was never in a romantic relationship. Zevran often teased him, among many suggestions for a 'private lesson'. Leliana and Morrigan never brought it up. Shale and Sten neither cared nor had an opinion, perhaps why he liked them so much. And Alistair had subtly mentioned he too was never involved with anyone.

_Licking a lamppost, I believe he called it._

He never thought about what it would be like. Well, he did when he was younger, but never pictured anyone in particular. He wouldn't even know what to do if the moment ever came. And now, it seemed he was being mentioned in those sort of conversations…

What did it mean though? What was Leliana to Dorian? He was pretty sure how he felt about her, though he wouldn't know what to do about it. He couldn't be certain Leliana felt the same way. He felt something between them, a spark. But, with what experience he had, it could all have been a misunderstanding.

Shaking his head he changed his shirt and rejoined the group. With a flick of his hand, the fire was lit and dinner could be cooked. He sniffed the air, Zevran certainly had a skill when it came to cuisine.

"Ah, I forgot to mention." Zevran spoke while sharpening his dagger. The man did that a lot. "The Lovely Morrigan was waiting to see you."

"Me? Did she say what about?"

"No, just that you need to see her as soon as possible." He smiled coyly.

"I'm starting my watch soon though, it's getting dark." He sighed and began heading to where she set her private camp up. "I suppose I shouldn't keep her waiting."

As he walked, he could feel Leliana's eyes watch him. He was certain she too was curious what Morrigan had wanted.

Walking into the bushes, he spied Morrigan pacing back and forth around her fire. She looked up and noticed him. He waved slightly, she smiled in reply.

"Morrigan, you asked to see me?" he smiled.

Morrigan said nothing, she simply walked over, rather purposely to where Dorian stood. She was only a step apart from him. She looked into his eyes. She was nearly taller than Dorian, but her slender frame relaxed as she stared at him. Her golden eyes sparkling, that lovely shade they often did when she was content. The long silence was starting to make him feel a little nervous.

"Is something the-" he started, but before he could finish, Morrigan closed the gap between them and placed a slender finger against his lips.

Her skin was so icy, it cooled his warm face. He began to wonder if that was something they had in common. He was fire, she was ice. Before he had time to fully ponder the connection, he was brought back to the present…

Morrigan was very close to his face. They stood at eye level. His large blue eyes frozen in fear and confusion. Her golden eyes, narrowed and studied his reaction. He wanted to turn, to run, but he was frozen. This, seemed to please her. Something about how she was acting seemed predatorily inhuman, like an animal about the hunt. Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear.

"Tis cold in my tent, all alone…" her breath cooled on his warm skin. Sending a small shiver. His breathing hitched as she spoke.

"I-I uh… what…?" he stuttered. Finally able to step back slightly, away from Morrigan. She attempted to follow, maintaining a close distance.

"I said, 'tis cold in my tent… all… _**alone**_…" she attempted to get her point across. Dorian could feel a tingle of panic rising.

_This is not happening… _

"Wha-what did you want me to do about it…?" he spluttered. Morrigan's smirk grew wider.

"I have a few ideas…"

Dorian tried to step back further as she spoke to him. Her intentions were becoming pretty clear. He didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't agree to this. He didn't love her, not in that way. Nor, was he ready for any such thoughts. As he realized after today's conversation.

"Morrigan…"

…

Dorian sat on his watch, looking up to the starry night sky.

The conversation he had not long ago with Morrigan had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had gently tried to explain to her he did not feel the same way. She then went on to say feelings were not necessary, and still continued to pursue him. It wasn't until he bluntly said he wasn't interested that she finally got the idea. Slightly insulted, her once calm demeanor became embarrassed. At first, she acted as if she didn't care, but when Dorian tried to explain he felt differently towards her, she snapped at him. Claiming his feelings laid elsewhere, and there was no reason to continue to be 'close' with her. Especially if he hadn't the intentions she suspected.

When he had tried to explain he came to feel something for her, but not like that, she became confused and angered.

"_What else is there?" _she scoffed.

Dorian was looking for what he never had, in perhaps the wrong place. He looked to Morrigan, as family. A kindred spirit, lost and lonely. He never wanted or intended to hurt her.

"May I join you, my dear Warden?" Zevran said in a gentle tone. Dorian was brought back to the present at the sound of his voice.

"Yeah, okay." He sighed. Zevran took a seat beside him.

"You have been rather quiet this night. Is something bothering you?" Zevran was many things, but concerned over others wellbeing, was never one of his priorities. Unless there was a chance to bed them, usually. But there something about his voice, he was being genuine.

"Just… trying to wrap my head around things." Dorian shook his head.

"Let me guess, women problems?" Zevran chuckled slightly.

"That obvious?" Dorian couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Let's just say, it wasn't long ago I too had that same look on my face. Trying to figure them out can be… painful. Men can be much easier, but only sometimes."

"I see." He nodded, unsure what to say.

"So, what about them is troubling you, my friend?"

"Just… I dunno…" he scratched his scruffy chin.

"Does this have anything to do with the lovely Leliana?"

"What, no!" he snapped. "Well… I dunno… You wouldn't understand."

"You'd be surprised. Please, you have always been there to listen to me. I swear on the Queen of Antiva's life I will not tease you." He placed a hand over his heart.

"You know the Queen well enough?" Dorian laughed.

"Well… that's a story for another time." He grinned. "Please, tell me."

"Just… feeling a little guilty I guess. I just turned Morrigan down for a night together. I'm worried I have damaged our friendship."

"You… what? Why in the name Andraste's fine body, did you do that?"

"I didn't love her." Dorian said with a shrug. "I know you've tried to explain that the two don't need to be one, she said the same… but… it does to me."

"I see… any other reason?" Zevran raised an eyebrow.

"Well…" Dorian rubbed his neck. It was becoming obvious he saw himself with someone else. Zevran had guessed as much.

"I thought as much…" he nodded. For a brief while the two sat in silence, Zevran seemed to wait for Dorian to speak further, but accepted when his friend didn't.

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciate theses gloves?" Changing the subject, Zevran held his hands out, appraising his Dalish gloves. "I never take them off. I always wonder why you insisted on giving them to me."

"You mentioned your mothers pair." He shrugged. "I hoped they might be a nice gesture for you. You're a good friend, Zevran. Even though you bug the Maker out of me." He laughed.

"Ah my good Warden…" he placed a hand on Dorian's shoulder. "I bug the Maker out of everyone!"

The two broke into laughter. The remainder of the watch, they spoke of many things. Zevran proudly recounted his adventures in the Crows, and Dorian listened with enthusiasm. He told how his many adventures earned him a new tattoo, Dorian curious asked him on what was required to have one done.

…

Dorian was glad to finally lay his head on his pillow and get some rest. Shift change had been rather… awkward. Morrigan and Leliana were awake and ready before Zevran and Dorian headed for their tents. Morrigan, had avoided eye contact with Dorian entirely. Rather, her glare seemed intently focused on Leliana. Leliana, however never noticed her death stare. She was smiling fondly to Dorian.

As he entered his tent, he could faintly hear the two conversing. This meant, Leliana was probably able to hear Zevran and his discussion.

"I am not fond of sharing. You should know this." Morrigan said, with a hint of a threat.

"I haven't asked to borrow anything of yours." Leliana appeared to be confused. Dorian was uncertain if this was the case, or an act.

"Nor would I lend it if asked! You would be best to desist and find your own." Morrigan growled.

"Find my own what?" Leliana attempted to remain nonchalant, but Dorian could hear the flicker of amusement in her voice.

"This facade of yours is unconvincing." Morrigan sighed, mockingly. "If 'tis a competition you wish, a competition you shall have."

"You wild folk are very odd. And possessive." Leliana said, her hidden grin betrayed in her voice.

"Yes we are. Meaning, you had better cease."

"I was unaware I had taken anything you counted as _yours_." Leliana's joking tone had ended. She seemed rather annoyed now.

"It may not appear so, at the present. But soon enough, you will learn. I am not one who enjoys sharing what is _**mine**_."

"A person is not property, Morrigan." Leliana snapped. "You cannot claim them, nor can you control them."

"We shall see."

With that, silence. The game the two women were playing had ended as quickly as it started. With Leliana's final words, Dorian knew completely now he was right.

_A competition? But I…_

Dorian sighed. He realized Morrigan might not give up quite so easily, given her chosen words. Silently he slapped himself, a small grin had crossed his mouth. He was unintentionally pleased with the discussion over his affection.

Leliana, was willing to fight for him. To fight over his affection. Perhaps, another hint at their growing spark. Still, he wasn't convinced. He wished she was abrupt with him, as Morrigan was. Everything might have been easier.

_Would it? You would probably panic._

_But at least I would have a straight answer. Why must it be so damned… complicated!_

Eventually, Dorian was able to drift asleep. That night, his dreams were not plagued with darkspawn. Just the occasional demonic whisper. Finally though, he was granted a few hours of silent sleep until sun up.

…

The small group was nearing the Circle of Magi. As they followed the lake, Dorian could see the water widening, it wouldn't be long now. Which would be a tremendous relief.

Morrigan had apparently said she would scout ahead, and took leave as a doe. Zevran merrily walked along, singing one of his Antivan pub shanties. Dorian didn't really pay attention, he was too busy engulfed in his conversation with Leliana.

"So, have you ever thought of returning to Orlais?" Dorian asked politely. "I know… after everything, it would be hard. But you miss the place, I can tell. What if everything was sorted with Marjoliane, would you return?"

"Maybe, someday." Leliana smiled. "I do miss it. Orlais was my home. But, I have learned home tends to be wherever your loved ones may be."

"Where is that?" Dorian asked, pressing for the answer he has been waiting on.

"Right now? I am uncertain." She answered, coolly.

Dorian silently cursed. Ever since he heard Leliana and Morrigan 'argue' about him, he hoped she would slip up and reveal what her intentions were. He knew he should be focused, and maybe reconcile with Morrigan, but right now she was all he could think about.

"Someday, I would like to go there." Dorian smiled. "You make the place sound wonderful. Zevran suggested going to Antiva, which would be great also."

"What of your Grey Warden duties?"

"Of course, once all this Blight is taken care of and another Warden takes the reigns as Commander." He pulled a face at the title. "I would like to travel, see far off lands I have only read about. That's if… I am not forced to return to the Tower."

"You are a Warden, your duty is to stop the Blight and fight darkspawn. Being a Warden, they would be unable to control you. You have allegiance to no one."

"You make it sound so… rebellious." Dorian laughed.

"I have a question?" Leliana grinned. Dorian felt his stomach knot up.

"Y-yes?"

"I overheard you and Zevran last night…"

"Yes?"

"Is it true… you are considering getting a tattoo?" She grinned, amusement in her teasing tone.

"Uh…" Dorian's heart fell a little, not what he hoped for. "Maybe. Alistair mentioned he was considering getting the Warden's crest…"

"You are considering this also?"

"Perhaps not just the crest…" Dorian felt a slight blush spreading.

"What else?" Leliana pressed, her smile hidden nicely in her tight lip.

Dorian stared at her as they walked, unable to speak. Overly embarrassed on what to say.

"A… dragon." The mage lied, rather poorly. Although, the thought was tempting.

"Because of the fire?" Leliana giggled slightly. Dorian nodded.

His answer seemed to satisfy her curiosity, as she didn't ask further. Perhaps another time, Dorian would speak the real reason he considered getting tattoos. Although, he was sure she would find it silly.

"May I ask you another question?" Leliana's voice was sullen now, the sudden mood change startled Dorian. He nodded, a small worry line upon his brow. "It's about… your hand."

Dorian stopped dead in his tracks. Leliana turned to look to him. Stunned, he removed the glove from his left hand. How could she have noticed? Normally, with enough lyrium, he was able to mask the scar. Now with fewer stocks he resorted to wearing gloves most of the time. Nevertheless, she had seen what he wanted badly to hide. Sighing, he lifted his palm up, allowing Leliana to gently take it and study the lines.

"It's a burn mark…" she whispered, mostly to herself.

"My very first." Dorian half smiled. "No one was able to heal it by the time I reached the Circle, the damage had been done to my hand."

Leliana's gentle fingers traced the lines. Part of Dorian wanted him to flinch away, to even lash out at her touch… but the majority of him relished the gentle feeling. It tickled and soothed the subconscious burning it always felt. He closed his eyes and allowed her to trace it.

"Why do you hide it?" she whispered.

"Because, like all bad memories… we hide them away… to be forgotten." He could feel his throat tighten.

Leliana lifted his hand, and gently placed it to her cheek. Then, lightly her lips traced the outlines. A loud sigh escaped Dorian's lips and his eyes flickered open. Staring down into her clear blue eyes, he could feel his heart beat faster and faster.

"The bad memories cannot hurt us anymore." She smiled, tears swelling in her own eyes.

Dorian, feeling overwhelmed, stepped towards her. Closing the small distance between them, he looked down to her. Her eyes just below his, she looked up. With his free hand, he gently brushed a thumb across her cheek to catch her tears. She smiled. Every muscle in his body urged him to lean down that small distance, to her lips. Something about her eyes, made him feel it was a welcomed thought.

Leaning in closer and closer, eyes focused on her lips, his breathing slowed. Just as he reached the small space apart, his breathing hitched.

"We have arrived!" Zevran's voiced boomed from behind.

Both Leliana and Dorian jumped at the sound, near leaping to get apart from each other. Both of their faces as red as the other. Zevran, acted as if he was unaware what was going on. Leliana cleared her throat and headed on.

Dorian staring after her, rubbing his neck. He let out a loud sigh. Then, with his glove in hand, slapped Zevran over the head. The elf flinched and ducked each shot, half laughing half scolding.

"What was that for?" he winced.

"I could ask you the same question, elf!" Dorian hissed.

"Tsk tsk, my dear Warden. So flustered, so tense… perhaps a-"

"Zevran, I swear to the Maker and anyone else up there… I will _**roast **_you!"

"Come now, you think the moment was perfect to recount at a later date?" Zevran snickered.

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"The fair bard would want to tell many tales and songs of how she cooled the fiery heart of the brooding mage Grey Warden…. It's too early in the story to reach the romantic climax." He added with a wink.

"You… you are insane, you know that?" Dorian surrendered with a laugh. "And I'm not broody."

"You are, but only slightly. Snarky, charming, gentle, shy… the list of your adorably arousing qualities goes on."

"Oh… buggar off." With that Dorian followed after Leliana.

"Trust me my friend, you will both thank me later." Zevran grinned ear to ear.

"You know… I'm starting to regret not frying you that day…"

"Ha-ha, of that I am sure."


	14. A Broken Man

_Chapter Fourteen: A Broken Man_

**-Chapter told through Leliana's eyes-**

Leliana waited ahead for Zevran and Dorian to catch up. She stared forward, taking in the sight before her. Zevran was correct, they had indeed arrived at the Circle of Magi.

Never before had she seen such a sight. In all her years of travel, never had she gone to the tower built in the middle of Lake Calenhad. Never had she considered it, nor had she heard anything worthwhile of a journey there. Now she saw why.

The sky around the tower seemed to visibly darken, the water surrounding was black and murky. The bridge leading to the tower was destroyed, only access was by a tiny boat. This dark and secluded tower, was the place Dorian once called home.

She could hear her companions near, their laughter gave away their presence. She smiled, hearing Dorian's awkwardly adorable chortle of a laugh always made her happy. It wasn't often the sound graced her ears, but lately Zevran seemed to tickle his humor. She was glad the two had become very close friends. It was a much more preferable friendship than the one he had with… her.

"So… here we are." Dorian's once happy tone changed. He was his usual calm self.

Leliana glanced towards him, his face was visibly straight, but she could see his worry line betray his emotions. His eyes crinkled to the sides. She knew this trip would take its toll on her friend.

"Shall we cross the lake?" she smiled, trying to break Dorian's mood. He faltered, but only briefly, returning a half smile.

"Not yet. I have to check something." His eyes were or an elderly man scrounging around in what appeared to be trash. She wondered what Dorian's interest in the scavenger was. "If you guys could have a look around, see if there is anything amiss about the tower. That would be helpful. Someone please see if they can spot Morrigan as well." With that, he stormed towards the man.

Leliana noticed Zevran staring at her, with a smug grin.

"What?" she asked, shrugging.

"Oh, nothing." He grinned. "I shall go and see what the word is about the place. I'll leave you to wait for lovely Morrigan."

"Why me!" she squeaked. She was far from eager to spend any more one on one time with that woman.

"Because… last time I attempted to speak with her she threatened to light my hair on fire…. I think some space will allow her affection for me to grow." His grin revealed his lie.

"I'm sure… this wouldn't have anything to do with her conversation with me… now would it?" she crossed her arms.

Zevran simply shook his head and walked away, his shoulders shook slightly with suppressed laughter.

_Gossiping elf…_

Sighing, she looked around slightly. Morrigan didn't appear to be nearby. Not that she wanted to truly look. Instead, she waited near the docks for Dorian to finish his business. She watched him talk with the man. Or rather, intimidate? He appeared to try and tower over him and even seemed to try and scare the ragged little man. The man seemed rather jumpy over the discussion. Her curiosity peaked, Dorian was never a man for intimidation. Something important must have been involved. She wondered why he had chosen to leave her out of it. He seemed to tell her almost everything those days.

She shook her head smiling, it was not right to impose herself constantly in his business. She did not own him.

_Nor do I want to. He is a free man…_

_Do not lie, you know the thought is tempting…_

She was indeed lying to herself. As the days rolled by, the harder she found it to keep her feelings in check. Often she had to stop herself from staring longingly to him, desperately wanting him to notice her. To acknowledge. And then, what Zevran interrupted only moments ago did not help matters.

_Maker!_

She could have killed that elf herself. It was the boldest she had ever seen her leader, and in that brief moment they were so close. So close to letting their guards down, so close to being together.

It was obvious her feelings were requited. She could see he felt the same, if not more. She saw it in his eyes, that same twinkle she once had… so very long ago.

But then, seeing that twinkle she knew to stop, to back away. He was naive, innocent, in her eyes. She did not want to spoil his heart, because she could not be certain she would ever be what he wanted… or needed.

No matter how desperately she wanted to be.

"I see you yet continue to be where you are not welcomed."

An unwanted voice echoed in Leliana's ear. Apparently the witch had returned while she was not paying attention. Sighing, she did not even bother turning to face Morrigan.

"Are you jealous?" she said, acid in her tone. She knew better than to be this way, but something about Morrigan sent her blood boiling.

"I see nothing to be jealous about." Morrigan hissed.

"Is that what this is about? Because I don't think it's for you to decide what I should or should not do." Leliana rolled her eyes. She was reminded of her days as a young maiden, how foolishly her and other girls would argue over someone of their fancy. It was all childish. She needed to stop it.

"Oh, you may continue on as you have." Morrigan scoffed, faking disinterest. "I am merely informing you that you will suffer the consequences…" though her tone was flat, the threat still remained.

With that, Leliana swiftly spun to glare at Morrigan. If the witch wished to make threats, that was another thing entirely from harmless bickering. She had learned long ago not to take such actions lightly.

"You forget, Morrigan, I am not without my own pointy ends, as well. Do not make promises you cannot keep." Her eyes narrowed.

"I always keep my promises." Morrigan replied icily.

For a moment the two stared in bitter silence. Leliana knew the woman was dangerous, yet she refused to back down. To her, this was no longer about Dorian. Part of her doubted if it ever was. Morrigan had constantly gone out of her way to attempt to upset Leliana. Be it about her beliefs, or about who she was in general. And now, the witch wanted to take away the only reason Leliana was able to remain focused.

_Okay… perhaps this is about him… more than I am willing to accept… _

"Talk is cheap." Leliana finally spoke. She rolled her eyes, both at herself and at Morrigan. This was getting foolish.

"And this from a bard?" Morrigan snorted. Leliana reframed from pointing out how very lady like that trait of hers was. She bit her lip.

Leliana returned to watching Dorian, ready to help him should he need it. She could feel Morrigan's eyes remain on her.

"The way you look at him so intently, so hungrily... one would think you have never seen a man before." The witch said coolly. Hoping for a bite from Leliana.

"Where I look is not your concern." Leliana growled.

"True enough. There is no way I can deny you this..." something in her voice was rather venomous, as if her words were able to cause greater damage than her magic. Her lips curled into a nasty grin. "But why would he choose you, when he could have me?"

Leliana continued to chew her lip, her eyes narrowed. Morrigan was indeed hoping for a response. Leliana remained silent, so the witch continued to dig.

"It is almost as though you wish he would feel your gaze upon him and notice you." She made a gesture of mock fainting, mocking Leliana's apparent fawning over Dorian. "And maybe he does notice you, but what does he see? A girl, skinny like a boy, with wild, ragged hair."

"What is your point, Morrigan? That I am not attractive?" she was not insulted, in fact rather pitied that the best Morrigan could do was insult her looks. "I do not need to make disparaging remarks about other women to make myself feel better. I know who I am."

She turned her head to Morrigan, her frown still across her face. Morrigan remained calm, a look of boredom she fashioned.

"You say that I am the one who tries to be noticed, when it is you. He has ignored your advances, hasn't he?" Leliana attempted to hide the amusement in her tone, but it was still there. Morrigan's face changed almost instantly. A small blush spread across her cheeks, only briefly.

"How do you-" Morrigan was not expecting that comeback. Leliana probably shouldn't have used it, she had overheard Zevran and Dorian discussing it last night. He had not told her directly.

"Perhaps it's time you stop projecting your own troubles on someone else." Leliana said turning her head away from the woman.

"You can't possibly think he would prefer you?" Morrigan snorted once more. Despite it all, the woman refused defeat. It was completely infuriating. Regardless whether Dorian wanted Leliana or not, the fact she plainly disregarded his feelings angered Leliana.

"Funnily I was about to say the same thing to you." She said smugly with a small smile.

_Okay, that was rather childish Leliana… _

"Oh, and what exactly is it you believe you have to offer?" the witch crossed her arms, a small smirk on her lips.

"I don't know… but if we are together, it will be because, he wants me and he loves me, these things are real." Leliana was unsure why she was saying these things, and to her of all people. She was openly admitting her desires, and why? Because some bitter witch wanted to argue over him.

"And yet love grows rotten on the vine so quickly. A sour fruit that offers only a memory of sweetness. What is it worth, truly?" the witch laughed.

"Everything." Leliana looked to her once more, anger slowing. Morrigan truly didn't understand love. It reminded her of someone…

_Perhaps they would be better suited together… they could teach each other. His sweet nature might make a good influence on her…_

_But she is vial and uses men for her own pleasure! Dorian deserves better!_

_Oh, and you are any better, Leliana?_

"Love... Ha! Such fanciful desires. Sounds like an answer one who had nothing real to offer would turn to!" Morrigan laughed bitterly.

"Only a dried-up shell of a person would not know that." Leliana said shaking her head. She truly pitied Morrigan, but detested the woman far more.

"We shall see." Morrigan said angrily. Then stormed off. Leliana followed her with her eyes for a moment. Then turned to see Dorian approach.

Curiosity and worry were obvious on his face, his eyes moved from Leliana to Morrigan. He must have noticed some of the exchange.

"Everything… all right?" he said once he reached her.

"I was about to ask you the same." She smiled, nodding to the elderly man atop the hill.

"Yeah, just an errand for a friend. Speaking of which, once we are done here, you and the others need to travel by boat across the river with the other mages. That's if they agree… of course." He shook his head.

"You would not be joining us?"

"No. I have to make a stop at Orzamar first."

"That is a long way to travel, especially on your own."

"Not really." He laughed. "Flight is a marvelous thing. If anything, I will arrive back at Redcliffe before you do. I only need to pick something up, once I do I will fly back."

"Is it really that important?" she asked, rather disappointed she could not join him.

"Perhaps." He shrugged.

_Always a mystery_

"Well… we'd better go inside." He sighed. The heavy look in his eyes returned.

"Will… you be alright?" she inwardly slapped herself for the pathetic attempt to comfort him. Her wonderful bard skills seemed to fail her at late.

"I have to be." He half smiled.

Walking towards the small raft Dorian began whistling. Leliana stared after him. This journey truly would leave its mark on her friend. She just hoped it would not undo all he had accomplished.

…

The group traveled over the lake. Zevran was forced to stay behind with Spirit, the boat was not big enough for all of them and Morrigan insisted she was to accompany them. Joyous, Leliana thought.

She had to hold her laughter inside when the foolish Templar guarding the raft, attempted to organize some 'alone time' with Morrigan. Leliana was keen to trade, but Morrigan frightened the man with her black widow routine. They were lucky the man was willing to take them across regardless.

Dorian sat at the head of the boat, staring to the tower. His eyes flickered and darted from the water and back. Something was running through his mind, memories Leliana thought. It had been some time since he left the Circle. She recalled how fresh faced and innocent he appeared the day she joined them at Lothering. Lothering… a place she once considered close to a home… was now gone forever.

_Maker, watch over those who didn't survive. Guide them to your side and help them find the light._

She thought on how so many of her companions had changed over the time on their travels. None more than Dorian himself. Not only with his confidence and bravery, but also in appearance. His once short hair now flowed just below his ears. Thick and unruly. He was also in need of a shave, a small dark beard tickled his chin. It had been some days since his last trim.

Leliana rather enjoyed his new rugged look, it made him appear older and dashing. Though she liked how he was when she met him.

_Oh Maker, woman stop staring at him!_

She shifted her gaze to the tower. Chewing her lip she restrained herself from further staring. As hard as that was, she was certain Morrigan would notice, if she hadn't already. Not that she cared what the witch thought, she just didn't need another jealous cat fight when times were becoming serious. She also didn't need to be pining over her leader like an ill-educated school girl every other minute.

The ride over the lake had been almost silent, apart from the Templar humming a tune as he rowed. Leliana worried what awaited inside the walls. The Templar had mentioned the Knight Commander had ordered none to enter due to disturbances. This announcement had only increased the distress in Dorian.

"We're here." Dorian finally said in a hushed tone.

…

"Well he is a pleasant chap…" Leliana mumbled as they headed towards the quartermaster.

Knight Commander Gregoir was everything Dorian had described him to be. All business, no emotion. The moment Dorian approached the man, his eyes narrowed.

Despite the mages change in appearance, Gregoir had recognized him immediately. And he wasn't at all pleased to see him. Dorian remained business like, jaw clenched shut as the man insulted his unkempt appearance and the fact Dorian had returned at all. Leliana wanted to insult the man for daring to speak with Dorian as such, or at least hoped Dorian would fight back. He didn't, it seemed difficult enough to look into the Templars eyes. Gregoir claimed he was glad to learn Dorian had survived and was now a Grey Warden, though Leliana could tell he was trying only to be polite.

Focused, Dorian requested the aid of the mages against the Blight and also required the First Enchanter's presence at Redcliffe. Gregoir insulted Dorian, how dare he request such things when the tower was in such a state.

Dorian refused to take in the sight of Templars bleeding and battered sprawled about the entranceway. He didn't seem to take in the screams and howling coming from beyond the large doors. He was being a Grey Warden, they had no ties or emotional connection to where they hailed. Leliana could see he was struggling though.

Gregoir revealed they sent for the Right of Annulment, Leliana was unsure what that meant. With that word, Dorian flew into a fit of rage. No more could he remain neutral.

He shouted, claiming the Templars waited long for the chance to slay them, and this was it. He cursed the man, for allowing innocent children be taken by the demons that lurked inside. Gregoir shook his head, claiming he was only a boy, who knew nothing.

Dorian, held his head high, and stated he would go in. He would be the one to end the demons and rescue those the Templars abandoned. That Dorian himself would do their job, and protect his people. Gregoir laughed, but did not stop him. It was apparently Dorian's funeral.

Dorian turned to Leliana and Morrigan, he told them both this was not their fight and they no longer had to accompany him. Both seemed shocked he even considered they wouldn't, although Morrigan said she had her own business to attend to. Unlike Leliana, who refused to leave Dorian's side, simply because it was the right thing to do.

_Yes, because that is the only reason…_

_Hush._

Once Dorian stocked up on lyrium and anything else they required, he purchased a new set of robes. Similar to the ones he used to wear. He took leave to change into them, he told Leliana it would be easier for him to wield magic without armor. The best way to defeat any demon.

When they were ready, they entered through the large doors. Once the three of them were inside, the Templars sealed them in. There was no going back.

As soon as the doors slammed shut, Dorian froze. The halls were dimly lit, but still it was easy to see the massacre that lay before him. Splattered across the walls, was a large amount of thick blackened liquid. The floor covered in similar colours. Dorian crouched and observed it. Leliana took a step towards him.

"Wh-what is it?" she whispered.

"Blood… but no ordinary blood. Something grows inside it…" his words sent a shiver through her.

Turning his head, he peered into a room lacking a door. Jerking up, he approached it. Gently, he pawed the doorway, remembering. With a deep breath he stepped inside.

"We are wasting time." Morrigan hissed. Leliana snapped her head towards the witch, glaring.

Dorian did not hear. He was no longer with them. He stared towards the many bunk beds thrown about the room. Blankets, clothes, parchment, belongings of all kinds laid about the floor, scattered and splattered with red. All covered in the same thick ooze. Dorian approached one bed, a large chunk had been broken away. He touched the bedding, and whispered something Leliana could not hear.

Desperately she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. But she knew, he would turn her away. Something about him had changed the moment he entered the tower. He was broken inside.

With a thunderous crack, he sent the bed flying across the room with force push, startling both Leliana and Morrigan. He then inspected a trunk and returned to the door way. The look on his face was one Leliana had never seen before. It was screwed up violently.

"I need to return to this room once this is over with. I need to retrieve some of my belongings." He said flatly. Leliana nodded.

Dorian led them through the halls. Morrigan did not walk with them, she searched rooms and various crates and trunks. Leliana wondering exactly what she was looking for.

As they walked, Leliana noticed something laying on the floor. It seemed to be bubbling, as if it was alive. She approached it, curious. Whatever it was, it was covered in something that appeared to be growing. A pinky flesh substance was attempting to cover it. As she grew closer, the light revealed what it was. With a loud gasp, she stumbled back.

"No…" she whispered. Dorian rushed to her, his eyes on what she had seen.

Laying in a torn and crumbled heap under the strange flesh blanket… was a small girl. Her eyes were open in horror, glazed over in a milky white. She clung to a bloodied teddy bear. Leliana suppressed the urge to cry.

Dorian walked towards the girl. Crouching before her, he studied whatever it was that appeared to grow over her. His face twisted and knotted, pain and fear spread over him. With a gentle hand, he closed the child's eyes.

"Fly free… little bird…" he said as he bowed his head.

Without another word, he proceeded down the hall. Leliana could hear his faint muttering, though she dare not speak with him.

"She could have made it… they sealed her in… she could have…" she could hear the tears forming in his voice. This place, was breaking what remained of Dorian's spirit.

Finally after walking through the halls and searching rooms for survivors, the first sign of life appeared before them.

They entered a large room, filled with children and young men and women, huddled together in fear. An elderly woman stood in front of them, waving her staff at a demon which had broken through the barrier casted by the other door. With great ease, she destroyed the beast.

Leliana was amazed how easily the elderly mage was able to take down the mighty demon.

Dorian approached her, a small glimmer of hope was in his eyes. The sight of all the survivors gave him some confidence all was not lost. The woman turned to Dorian, a look of disbelief upon her face.

"You? You've returned to the tower? Why did the Templars let you through? Are you hear to warn us?" the woman's voice was calm, motherly in some strange way.

"Hello Wynne." Dorian lightly smiled. "I am glad to see you survived Ostagar."

"As I am to see you have, as well." She nodded.

"This was once my home Wynne… I need to learn what has become of it."

"I see you still care about the Circle and our tower. Unfortunately, the Circle is in grave danger."

"As I can see…" he nodded. "I was unaware just how bad it was, I thought Gregoir was being overly cautious. The vail is very thin here. I can sense many demons… and something else."

"You've heard then. I suppose the Templars would not let you in without warning you first. The Templars have barred the doors. They will only open them if they intend to attack us. Is that what is happening?" her eyes narrowed on Dorian.

"I am not here to harm any of you!" Dorian snapped. "The Templars however, are waiting for reinforcements… and…"

"So Gregoir thinks the Circle is beyond hope… he probably assumes we are all dead…" the woman, Wynne, seemed to slump into herself with the words. Visibly heartbroken. "They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived. Whatever demons were through the barrier, we have slain… but, if they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them."

"What of Irving?" Dorian sounded near pleading. Leliana knew of the strong bond Dorian had for his mentor. She hoped news would be good.

"If anyone could survive this, it would be the First Enchanter Irving. It was he who told me to look after the children. It's… a long story."

"Irving is fine, I just know it…" Dorian nodded.

"I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children." Wynne continued. "You will not be able to enter the tower as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you join with me to save this Circle." Her words were of pride and wisdom. She was looking to Dorian for help. Leliana knew what his answer would be.

"I will not let this tower fall." His words gave Leliana hope. He never failed to impress her with his determination.

"Once Gregoir sees that we have made the tower safe, I trust he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable."

"If you say." Dorian snorted. "Then we should set off at once."

Morrigan began to object, claiming the Circle mages brought it upon themselves. Dorian snapped at her with a violent growl, reminding her where he had once come from. She seemed unfazed by his outburst, nor apologetic of the offense she caused. Simply said it was his decision.

Leliana hoped that the small interaction would be enough to settle the 'dispute' over his affections. That Morrigan either realized he was not interested, or that Dorian saw what she truly was. And that Leliana was always there for him, through thick and thin.

_Focus, Leliana._

Wynne then instructed two of the older mages to watch the children and guard the door once she left. A young girl, roughly Dorian's age with long tied up red hair asked if she should join to aid Wynne. She was told to remain behind.

"Have faith Petra, we will not fail."

"I believe you Dorian." The woman, Petra, smiled. Leliana was unsure whether she liked this girl doing so.

_Truly? Jealous, now!_

_Yes… I know._

"Your confidence is refreshing Dorian, though you should make sure it does not blind you to your weaknesses." Wynne lectured.

Leliana winced at her words. They seemed rather patronizing. She found Dorian's confidence was in fact his greatest strength. When he truly believed in himself, he was able to achieve great things. His will was stronger than any man she had ever known.

"If you are ready, let us go end this." she said with finality.

The two of them made quick rounds to make sure the children were alright. Dorian mentioned he sensed something sinister in the air, and insisted on doing so. He was afraid something might have affected the young inexperienced mages. She recalled the heartbreak in his eyes at the young girl earlier.

Dorian seemed to completely change with the children. Each were very glad to see him, several even jumped up and hugged him greatly. Leliana couldn't help but smile. She had never seen such a gentle side with the Warden.

"I didn't know him very well, but the word about the Circle was he was the children's 'big brother'." The motherly tone sounded behind Leliana. Wynne had approached her while she was not looking.

"I have never seen such a side of him before." Leliana spoke to herself, awe stricken as he poked and made faces at the children, causing them to laugh and grin wildly.

"Irving always said he would have made a great teacher." Wynne said, pride and remorse in her tone. "Odd how quickly and drastically plans can change."

Dorian then waved the children farewell and approached the other Enchanters and older Apprentices. Leliana only knew them as such thanks to Dorian's explanation on the towers 'colour code'. Once again, his demeanor changed, he seemed cold and casual with the older people. Distant even. Leliana overheard one woman claiming this was their punishment, and he should leave them to it. Dorian simply shook his head and let her be.

"Petra, keep an eye on her." Leliana overheard him instruct.

"Do you think she may be…?" Petra murmured.

"No. Just make sure she doesn't scare the children."

"Alright… be safe…" she smiled at Dorian, he nodded a reply and returned to Wynne and Leliana.

Morrigan waited impatiently by the barrier. Ever since Dorian had silenced her for suggesting they let the tower burn, she was in a foul mood. Leliana couldn't help but be pleased about it.

Wynne and Dorian conversed about the barrier. Dorian pressed on whether she was capable of handling what lay beyond, Wynne simply stated she had to do what was right, regardless of her own wellbeing. He nodded in agreement. Admirable, was all Leliana thought.

Once the barrier was down, they proceeded through the doors.

…

What horrors they saw when they arrived, were nothing in comparison to what dwelled beyond the barrier. As they ventured through, more and more of the flesh grew upon the surrounding walls. It was like a virus, spreading and growing were it could.

More victims' bodies had been found. Though Dorian wished to say farewell to each, he merely kept walking. But each time, he said his own farewell to his former 'family'.

"_Fly free, little bird."_

Leliana thought his words were beyond beautiful. It broke her heart seeing the torture walking through the tower was causing him. Morrigan, though claimed interest in Dorian, did not even glance towards the man. The entire time, she searched and searched for whatever it was she longed to find. Wynne had noticed her behavior, and watched closely, eyes narrowed.

The group were attacked many times by demons of all manor, but they all fell easily. Leliana decided to wield her dual daggers for battle, giving the point attack and helping the mages cast from afar. Though Dorian would occasionally use a sword with larger groups. Wynne seemed slightly impressed by his knowledge on the skill, it was not a common thing for a mage to know swordplay. The demons were easy enough, but what was both horrifying and draining… was what lurked deeper.

Swollen and bulbous creatures lunged towards them. Snarling and growling, their mighty claws slashed and hacked. Dorian took point with their attacks, taking most of the hits. Though he was able to kill them, something about his fighting made it seem he was holding out on the monstrosities.

"What are they?" Leliana asked staring down at the creature. It appeared the thing was wearing clothes, torn and burnt robes.

"My people…" Dorian said, pulling his blade from one of the creature's heads. He sheathed it and walked on.

Leliana stared after him, unsure by what he meant. Wynne placed a hand on her shoulder.

"They are what becomes of a mage who consorts with demons… they are abominations."

Leliana gasped. That was why Dorian made their deaths quick and painless, these were people he grew up knowing.

Though she doubted if he could tell who they were once, the thought that he had killed a classmate, or a friend, would have been enough to drive someone to insanity. This was why it broke him to learn Jowan was a blood mage, he feared this was his friend's fate. Why he refused to use blood magic in Redcliffe, or why he chose to slay Avernus. Why he always condemned it, why the mere suggestion of it sent him on edge. This, was what he feared he too would become.

The others followed after him. Wynne also seemed pained by what she was forced to do. Leliana looked to see if Morrigan felt something of the fate of her fellow mages, she seemed unfazed, focused on continuing her search. Why would she care, she did not know these people. Though, it was still amazing that she did not fear the sight of her own possible future, should she ever slip up.

Leliana thought nothing would shock her on this mission anymore. She had seen too many unworldly horrors that there was no way anything would surprise her further. She was wrong.

They had entered into another large room, a supplies room she presumed. After killing demons and abominations inside, Dorian approached a man standing towards shelves.

The man was… sweeping. A rather odd thing to do at a time like this. Leliana wondered why the man was not panicking or hiding. Or for that matter, why the demons ignored him.

Dorian spoke with him, with a friendly familiarity. The man turned stiffly, his eyes appeared to be glazed over. As the man spoke, Leliana could sense something was not right. His voice was flat, monotone. He didn't blink, didn't twitch, he was as still as stone apart from his lip movement. It was beyond unnerving.

Dorian noticed her confusion and walked over to Leliana once he had finished speaking with the man.

"Owain, is a Tranquil." He said bluntly.

Leliana's eyes widened. He had spoken before of Tranquility, how it was a fate some mages suffered if they failed a Harrowing or betrayed the Circles laws. She had thought he was over exaggerating, nothing surely was as ghastly as what he described. How wrong she was. It was as if the life had literally been drained from this man. She was now starting to understand why Dorian said what he did, why he was cold about his past. The horrors she had witnessed within an hour, were nothing in comparison to what he lived in his lifetime.

"Another fate of my kind…" he said heavily and walked on.

Leliana followed closely. She wished with all her heart she could take his pain away. She wished she could have given him, and all other mages a better life. In no way did any of this seem… reasonable. For so long she had hoped he merely resented the place because they locked him away and sheltered him, she felt stupid for doubting. She just didn't want to believe anything was as bad as he described.

Mages had to fear many things. Templars wrath. Demon's whispers, the temptation to leave it all. To slip up and either be turned into a hideous beast, or be caught and… well, death might have been kinder.

Leliana was beyond disgusted by what she saw. It was truly barbaric, cruel and torturous. She could scarcely believe it. That anything related back to the Chantry and the Maker could be so… horrific.

Dorian was right. Leliana saw a different side to the Chantry, because she was not born cursed. She now saw why the elves too resented the Chantry, and the Dwarves. The Chantry seemed to only favor a small amount, then prosecute the rest. This was not what the Maker would want. She knew it, she believed it.

And despite it all, Leliana had seen how Dorian was with the children. That even though he had been raised in fear and torture, there was a gentle light glowing inside him. He wanted to shield and protect the innocent from the horrors of their worlds. When he told the children he had indeed become a Grey Warden, they called him a hero. Though he would never admit it, Leliana believed he truly was the makings of one. Seeing him with those children, so gentle and sweet… made her picture what a great father he would make.

_Maker, Leliana! Leaping forward a little, aren't we._

She shook her head, she needed to remain focused. Especially since they had just entered a room filled with all kinds of horror, all wanting to rip them to shreds.

"Now let's see, which one first?" Dorian said twirling his sword and staff. "Why don't you come over here and die!"

Leliana couldn't help but smile at his courage and enthusiasm. Even in times like this, his sarcastic nature never seemed to falter.


	15. Nightmarish Games

_Chapter Fifteen: Nightmarish Games_

Dorian's eyes flickered open. He felt, overwhelmed. Exhausted and yet refreshed. Blinking back the light, he tried to get a baring of where he was. Something was off, he couldn't seem to remember anything.

The world seemed hazy and slow. He looked around. He was sitting at a table in a grand hall. Men and women were all talking and laughing merrily. They were all dressed in fine blue armor and seemed to be celebrating. Dorian had no idea where he was, or how he got there.

Everything was wrong, nothing seemed real. When he attempted to pull his memory back all he could remember was being recruited from the Circle, something that felt like months ago, now appeared to have only been days. He scratched his chin, it was smooth. The soft skin seemed unnatural, as if it was missing something.

He looked down to see he too wore the blue armor. His hair was neatly brushed out of his face, he was dressed smartly in this strange armor. All of this was confusing.

"Ah, yer awake." A booming voice sounded. "Ye nodded off, can ne hold yer liquor Lad."

"A-Angus?" Dorian murmured. This was not right, none of it.

"That's ma name. Duncan has been waiting for you. He said to meet him in the courtyard, when yer up for it." He grinned widely to Dorian. "Once you've spoken with yer adoring fans, o' course." He added a hearty wink.

"My…what?" Dorian groaned against his rising headache.

"Aye Lad. Many of the other Warden's want to hear how ye and Duncan thwarted the mighty Archdemon. 'Nd how yer to be named the Kings honorary Mage Ambassador. Such an honor." Angus practically radiated with pride. "I told you I expected great things. Ye didna' disappoint."

"What?" was all the mage could muster.

"The lady Wardens are especially keen to hear the tales, Lad." Angus winked once more. "I'd a deal with Duncan soon, so ye can get back to the partying." With that the large man walked away, singing a loud shanty in his native tongue.

This was not right, it couldn't be. Rising up, Dorian found it hard to control his movements. It was as if he was watching everything play out but had no control. He moved clumsily, mechanical. Like a puppet. He tried harder and harder to pull his memory back. Slowly, something was coming to him. Hazy memories of what Angus said flashed in his mind. But they were… off. Colorless, acted out. Using all the will he could muster, he pushed past whatever barrier was trying to break his focus.

_Ostagar, burning. The Witch of the Wilds. Lothering. My Companions. The Warden, the Witch, the Bard, the Assassin, the Stone Giant, the Qunari Soldier, and the Hound. The forests, the villages, the people. A boy, and a demon. The tower…The Sloth Demon…_

It all came back to him. He no longer felt connected with the world he was trapped in. All of it seemed to flicker and flash between the world created and the raw fade. The demon's spell had been broken. All he had to do was face the one in charge of his prison.

_Honestly? This is the best a demon could do?_

Despite his various skills and preparation against the greatest demons attempt to trick him, this seemed rather sloppy. The foolish creature had not even begun to understand what the complicated mage ultimately desired. Freedom.

It had sensed his longing for it, so attempted to give him an illusion within the confides of the Warden charade. That, was its greatest downfall. Dorian saw being a Warden as another cage, just different bars.

He was now able to fully control his body as he walked. He could sense the other people's eyes upon him, his dream was becoming aware of his presence. He had one chance to get out, or the demon would reset everything and try again. No doubt next time delve a little deeper. Maybe his longing for a family? To be loved. His mind could only think of one person at that thought. If the demon tempted him with such fantasies, there was a chance his will would fail him.

_It cannot be given that chance. I must find the others! I will not fail!_

He just needed to find the trigger out. A key, something holding the dream all together.

There it was. Standing in the middle of the courtyard, was Duncan. Surrounding him were several other Wardens, they seemed to act casual but a threatening nature loomed over them. His body guards. Dorian was certain Duncan was the key. He just needed to play it safe, see if he could learn of the demons plan. There was no doubt the demon would be aware he was no longer in its possession, he just needed to trick it into believing he was uncertain rather than fully awake. This particular dream demon seemed to be one of pride, hence the heroic admiration. Appealing to that nature would be the safest route.

"Ah, there you are. I'm not disturbing you am I?" the dream spoke through Duncan.

_We can play this game Demon…_

"Not at all Duncan." Dorian smiled. "Did you need something of me?"

…

Dorian breezed through the Fade, to him this was nothing spectacular. If anything, it was very much like his Harrowing, only now he was not the only life in danger. He needed to find the others.

Upon breaking free of his own dream, Dorian met a familiar face. Nial, someone he once studied under. The mage had become trapped in the Fade attempting to undo the demonic workings inside the Circle. Nial informed Dorian what he knew had taken place within the towers walls. Dorian was aware Uldred, a crazed Senior Enchanter, had let demons loose in the Tower. Nial confirmed Uldred had indeed betrayed them all, but for his own personal gain.

Nial had informed him what little information the mage knew. Several lower demons were working with Sloth, powering him and filtering his victim's dreams and desires. Picking the best one and creating the scene.

Unfortunately, Nial chose to remain behind. He believed he would do nothing but slow Dorian down. Reluctantly Dorian ventured on alone.

Dorian sported his new found spirit form. A mouse. He found the idea amusing, as it reminded him of the trickster in his Harrowing, who also took the form of a mouse. Focusing, he needed to find other dreamers and gain their abilities if he was ever able to get through the Fade.

Pausing, the mouse formed mage felt something. Something powerful, calling to him. It was not evil, or corrupt. It felt pure, wholesome. The little mouse approached the source of this overwhelming aura. A stack of weapons stood askew in the middle of the Fade. It looked out of place, for obvious reasons. As the mouse neared it the object shone brightly. Dorian recalled what it was.

In his readings, he once came across an interesting fact about the Fade. Tevinter Magisters had learned of a way to syphon raw power from the Fade. Whenever a mage is made Tranquil, their greatest skills are trapped in the beyond forever. Bonded to whatever object it can cling to. Upon another mages touch the trapped magic can pass onto the beholder.

An interesting notion, though Dorian found it ghastly. He would be in a way stealing poor mages powers, powers dragged from their beings. It sent shivers through the mouse-mages body.

_It wouldn't be stealing if it was already stolen. It would just be going to waste…_

_No! I will not use a dead man's armor, I will not take a dead mages powers!_

Though his intentions admirable, the glowing aura seemed to have other plans. As he attempted to leave, the magic sensed his own powers and clung desperately to it. Seeking release from its prison in the Fade. Against Dorian's will, he was forced to consume the powers. This one in particular seemed to enhance his magical and physical strength. He felt his tiny fury muscles flex as the power merged with him.

Oddly, he felt an overwhelming feeling of… gratitude. Like something was thanking him. He could even hear a faint whisper in his ear, quiet, but still there. _Thank you, friend..._

…

Finding the other dreamers and defeating the controlling demons had been simple enough. What was becoming bothersome was attempting to pin point the exact dream channels to reach his friends.

Finally, all the major demons appeared to be defeated, he just had to stop the dream spirits from keeping his friends any longer. He finally believed he located one familiar connection. A mage, that much was obvious. He had felt this one's presence before, a friend. It only took him a second to see the surroundings of a swamp to be certain who he had found.

Dorian approached the two witches arguing faintly. The older one had finished slapping the younger one when she laughed and turned to Dorian, rather annoyed.

"Tis you at last!" Morrigan though annoyed, seemed relieved. "Come and rid me of this vexatious spirit! I weary of being prodded!"

Dorian let out a sigh of relief. He was rather glad Morrigan was able to pull apart the failed attempts of the spirits trickery. Though, he was curious as to what her desire was.

"Why is it prodding you?" Dorian raised a quizzical eyebrow. The spirit was growing annoyed by his presence.

"You ask me? It cannot even read my mind well enough to form a decent copy! Yet it hounds me still!"

"I see you got a lazy demon also." Dorian laughed. "You should have seen my dream."

"Yes, yes. We will have time to reminisce the stupidity of Fade spirits once we are rid of this place." Morrigan huffed.

"She doesn't even acknowledge her own mother!" the spirit howled dramatically. "My heart, it breaks!"

"Oh Maker… this is a good one." Dorian stifled a laugh. "You know, I think this is scarier than your actual mother…"

"Uh, I agree." Morrigan snorted. "Oh, slay it, and quickly! Even the true Flemeth was never as annoying as this!"

With that the dream Flemeth snarled, realizing its charade was long over. Lunging forward it attacked Morrigan, who was more than ready to swat it back with a quick spell. Several other spirits emerged from the air surrounding them, attacking the two mages. But, like the weak attempts to coerce them, their fighting skills were no better.

"Tis about time!" Morrigan said attaching her staff. "That was most-" she was cut off. Sparks of light began to flicker and shimmer around her, like they did with the other captors Dorian rescued. "Wait! What is this? No, not this again! I refuse!" she protested.

Dorian chuckled lightly as his friend vanished.

"I'll see you soon Morrigan."

With that he pressed on to the next strand of a dream he could feel. He had to move quickly, with Morrigan's presence no longer in the Fade, the dream began breaking away and changing.

…

Dorian took in his surroundings. Its appearance was like part of the Fade he once traveled to, a replica of the Tower. Although, unlike that unsettling version he was forced to endure, this one was not on fire. But sadly, what lay before was just as heart breaking.

Unlike Dorian and Morrigan's dreams design to please them, this one seemed to wish to hold its captive with dread and pain. Forcing the dreamer to endure their worst horrors, capturing them with their utmost fears.

Strewn about the floor in bloodied heaps were young apprentices, faces he knew. He pushed the initial shock away, just another dream. Once he did so the bodies no longer looked familiar, they were hollow and faceless. That would make killing them easier, especially for the dreamer.

"Maker forgive me. I failed them all…" Wynne looked down to her apprentices, tears in her voice. "They died and I did not stop it…"

Dorian inwardly cursed. He was sure that Wynne of all his companions would have easily broken the demons hold. She was a Senior Enchanter for Maker's sake! One to pass lessons on how to brave the Fade to children, and she was now herself unable to. Dorian sighed, this was going to be rather difficult he presumed.

"Wynne, they are not dead." He said calmly. "The Circle can still be saved. Maker willing you snap out of it."

"What about all this?" she waved about the bodies, staring at Dorian with angered eyes. "How can you say that when you are faced with this?"

"Easily when it is not real." He sighed again.

"Death. Can you not see it? It's all around us." Her voice broken.

"I can see it Wynne. But you know what, it's not real and I don't believe it." He said with a shrug.

"Why was I spared, if not to help them?" she ignored his words.

"Oh for the love of…" Dorian spat. This was getting a little ridiculous, and slightly hypocritical. This woman was supposed to be an example.

"What use is my life now that I have failed in the task that was given to me?"

"I don't know how to say this… buuuut… aren't you supposed to be an expert in these situations?"

"Leave me to my grief! I shall bury their bones, scatter their ashes to the four winds, and mourn their passing till I too am dead."

"Well this is all a little morbid for my liking…" he sighed. "Look, you have to fight this feeling, whatever it is."

"Your blatant disregard for the souls of the dead strikes me as being utterly inappropriate."

"Maker give me strength." He rubbed his eyes, patience wearing thin. It had been a long journey and this stop was being more than he thought it would be. "Please, just think about what you're doing here and why? Try and act like a Senior Enchanter for a moment, please?"

"I do not know what you are trying to tell me. Why must you make this more painful?"

"Uhhhh!" he threw his hands in the air in near defeat, contemplating letting her fend for herself. Like he had to.

"And where were you when this happened?" she snapped finally at his behavior. "I trusted you as an ally and you were nowhere to be found."

"Maybe because I have been going back and forth through this nightmarish hell in hopes of finding an ungrateful senior mage, who cannot tell the difference between a dream and reality? Maker, how did you survive your Harrowing!" he snapped. Sighing, he realized he was being far nastier than necessary. "Wynne, I am the only thing real here." He placed his hands on his heart. "Ignore everything else. Believe me."

"I do not know what this will accomplish, but I will do this, if it will satisfy you…" she sighed in defeat.

For a few moments she paused in silence, focusing on what was around her. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to place the missing pieces together.

"It is… difficult… to focus. It feels as though something is… stopping me from concentrating. I have never had so much trouble."

"Really? I-" he stopped, her words made him recall something.

His taint had enhanced his abilities as a mage. Perhaps that was why he found breaking the demons control rather easy, because his own inner demon gave him an edge. He felt his ears burn with shame at his own smugness.

"Perhaps some time away from this place will help me think clearly." She said finally.

"Being away from here will make you feel much better." He smiled.

"Don't leave us Wynne…" a raspy voice echoed as its owner rose from the ground. It moved sloppily, broken and twisted. "We don't want to be alone."

"Holy Maker!" Wynne exclaimed at the sight, undoubtedly she now saw what Dorian did. "Stay away from, foul creature!" she demanded.

"You have to defeat them to leave Wynne. Just remember what they are." Dorian commanded drawing his staff.

"Stay Wynne..." the husk beckoned. "Sleep soundly in the comfort embrace of the earth. Do not fight it. You belong here, with us…"

"N-no. Not yet. My task is not yet done… it's not time yet." Something was disturbing her once more. Dorian was certain something stronger was affecting Wynne in the Fade.

"Come… come away to your rest…" the creature soothed.

"Hmm. I have a better idea!" Dorian growled lighting the earth ablaze.

The bodies rose up defiantly to fight. One by one Dorian struck them back down. Eventually Wynne was able to snap out of her daze and offer her aid. Like the previous dream, the creatures fell easily.

"Is it over?" Wynne asked looking around at the aftermath. "Thank the Maker for you." She smiled to Dorian.

"It was nothing…" he mumbled blushing still with shame for his actions.

"Wait… what's happening?" like before, the dreamer was consumed with the sparkling aura. "Where are you going?"

Dorian waved as his companion disappeared once more. Free from the chains that held her. Sighing he rolled his robe sleeves up. He had one more stop before he paid Sloth a friendly visit. He couldn't wait to thank him for his new found headache.

He followed the last trail through the crumbling dream. He knew who this one would lead him to. Silently, he prayed he was not too late.

…

Stepping inside the fresh part of the Fade, Dorian felt a looming sense of dread as he took in the surroundings. He was now inside a Chantry's walls. He always felt a little on edge being inside chapels, for obvious reasons. But this was different, for a start it was not real.

His eyes looked around for their target. The room was filled with people praying and saying the Chant of Light quietly to one and other. But he finally found her, the dreamer. Kneelt purposefully at the alter, was Leliana. The woman was once again dressed in her Cloister robes. Beside her stood a Revered Mother. Dorian's eyes met with the Mother, they twitched with rage. She knew why he was there.

_This should be fun…_

Walking up to the alter he could hear the gentle voice of his friend. She too was praying as the others. He felt a hint of panic, it was obvious Leliana had been taken in by the dream. He just hoped she would not be hard to convince.

"All right, now's not really the time for prayer." He joked, sporting his trademark crooked smile, as she called it.

"Blessed-what?" startled, she looked up to Dorian. Her face was filled with confusion. "Who are you?"

The words stung harshly. He was truthfully not expecting that. The others were able to recall him, he simply assumed… taken aback slightly he tried to remain composed. Pushing the niggling voice inside his head trying to spark negative thoughts.

"I beg you, do not disturb the girl's meditations." Snarled the hollow faced dream Mother. Dorian ignored her and continued to smile warmly to Leliana.

"Revered Mother, I do not know this man…" Leliana said rising to eye level. She looked to him with uncertainty, and a hint of annoyance. It hurt him more than it should have.

"Um, ouch…" he laughed, masking pain. "We're friends Leliana, don't you remember?"

She raised an eyebrow. Despite her claim of not knowing him, something about her eyes twinkled when they landed on him. His heart sang with the realization, she was already fighting with her memories.

_That my girl… I mean…_

"The Fade is playing ricks with your mind, Leliana." He said disrupting his thoughts. "Just fight it."

"I'm sorry, but I-I don't know what you're talking about…" she rubbed her head. This spirit was strong, it was pulling her down with each attempt to fight.

"Do you ever?" he laughed. "You've often told me I ramble a little. But hey, you've admitted you do as well. I think it's a sign of intelligence, truthfully." He rubbed his neck. She cocked her head with his actions, a clear trigger for a memory. The spirit hissed.

"Please, do not vex her." it spoke through clenched teeth. "She needs quiet and solitude, to calm her mind and heal her heart."

"I know what you are…" he said eyes on the spirit, then returned to Leliana once more. "Leliana, listen to me please. This isn't real."

"Isn't real? I don't understand?" her voice was full of strain. This was hard for her, he could see her will struggling against the spirit.

"Don't you remember why you left the Cloister?" Dorian knew that would be another trigger, her faith and vision.

"I remember…" her eyes lit up once more. "There was a sign…"

"Leliana, we have discussed this… 'sign' of yours. The Maker does not care to interfere in the affairs of mortals. This 'vision' was likely the work of a demon."

"Ha!" Dorian snorted at the spirits words. "Oh that's funny…" he wiped his eye. "You must be a spirit of comedy! Do not listen to that rubbish, trust in what you believe!" he said with finality to his friend.

Leliana looked to Dorian, that familiar gleam her eyes often had. Appreciate and admiration, a look she gave him whenever he defended her opinion or the opinion of others. His open-minded nature.

"The Maker cares for us. I believe He misses his wayward children as much as we miss Him…" she spoke to the spirit. "My vision may not be from Him, but it guides me to do what is right."

"Well said." He grinned ear to ear with her words. She was breaking free. He also couldn't help but admire her determination and faith.

"My Revered Mother knew this." she continued, a quick glance to Dorian. "I don't know who you are, but you are not her."

"You can say that again…" he laughed through his grin. Leliana turned to him, she still seemed uncertain of who he was, but seemed to trust him regardless. "We have to go, as soon as you are ready."

"This is your home, your refuge." The creature attempted one last ruse. "Do you truly wish to leave the comfort of this place behind? Stay, and know peace."

"I'd like you to get to know my boot…" Dorian growled. "No one is going to hurt Leliana, not while I stand." Leliana raised an eyebrow, a hint of a mischievous smile touched her lips.

"I remember you…" she said with a wide grin to Dorian. For a brief moment the two grinned to one and other. "There is no need." She responded finally to the dream Mother. "I carry the peace of the Chantry in my heart."

"You are going nowhere, girl!" the beast snarled reaching towards Leliana. The bard quickly backed away from the touch. The crowd stirred and readied for what Dorian anticipated. "I will not permit it!"

"You no longer command her demon! She is free! So either be gone, or be dead!" Dorian grinned devilishly.

"No! She is ours, now and forever!"

With that the creatures screeched and lunged towards the pair. Leliana drew hidden daggers to defend herself, a look of absolute shock at the sights she was seeing. She now saw the people as the disfigured beasts they were. The fight did not last long.

"Clingy demons, aren't they?" he chuckled as he finished the last of them off.

"Holy Maker… she… she was a…" Leliana stumbled over her words as she stared down to the demonic corpse before her.

"A very mean lady? Yes." He grinned cheekily. Leliana looked to him, familiarity and warmth in her eyes. She remembered him completely now. He silently cheered, and suppressed the urge to go for a hug.

"Ugh… my head feels heavy, like I've just woken from a terrible nightmare." She rubbed her temple as she approached Dorian.

"Well, practically same thing… just add demons." he shrugged. "Welcome to the world of Mage dramas."

"I believe we had… some task to accomplish?" she looked to him sheepishly. "We shall discuss this once we are free from this place, yes? Let us be on our way…wait-" once again the familiar haze engulfed Dorian's friend.

"It's alright, don't panic." He smiled.

"What's happening to me?" and then she was gone.

Dorian sighed, once again he was alone. He was glad though that all his friends were now free. He had only one thing left to do in this wretched place he knew all too well.

"Let's go pay Sloth a visit… I think I owe him a headache or ten…"

…

Dorian rose from the ground. Blinking back the sudden brightness from the hallway lights, he was able to see clearly. Beside him the demon Sloth lay dead, never would it trap another innocent soul again. He could hear the faint moans of his companions behind him.

"Everyone alright?" he asked stretching. He could have sworn he heard a tear in his robes as he did so. It felt overly tight on his body, which was odd as he bought a large fitting one.

"I feel like Shale stomped on my head…" Leliana groaned rubbing her temple.

"The Fade can do that to you." He nodded.

"What of the Litany?" Wynne strained. Dorian turned his attention towards the second body to his feet.

Nial. Dorian knew the moment he found him, the man was doomed. His body had drained away while trapped in the Fade, had he never given up hope he might have stood a chance. But sadly, the raw power of the Fade consumed what was left of him. Saying a small farewell to the man, he gently searched his person for the parchment.

"Got it." He said finally.

"Now what?" Morrigan grumbled, pinching her eyes together.

"Now we pay Uldred a visit. We are close… I can feel it."

Indeed they were. Since entering that floor, Dorian had sensed a strong surge of power ahead. Stronger than the foolish Desire demon, and more focused than Sloth. It had to be whatever Uldred was planning. So on they walked.

It didn't take long for them to reach the entrance to the Harrowing chamber. As they approached, screams and cries echoed from the walls. More than they usually did from that room.

"Dorian, look." Leliana said taking the mages shoulder. His eyes followed to where she pointed.

In the corner of the room, a glowing force field seemed to have trapped a lone Templar. The man was kneeling and reciting the Chant of Light. Dorian knew this voice, he knew the man. Approaching him cautiously, he listened.

"This trick again!" the Templar shouted as Dorian approached. "I know what you are. It won't work. I will stay strong…"

"Cullen? Don't you remember me? You were at my Harrowing." Dorian spoke friendly. Though he despised Templars, Cullen was always a kind man.

"Only too well, demon…" Dorian could barely hear the man's rambling. He shook his head, this man had been forced to endure many tortures, he could see the sanity snap within his eyes.

"The boy is exhausted. And this cage… I've never seen anything like it." Wynne said examining the barrier. "Rest easy… help is here."

Leliana approached, attempting to aid Cullen. The man snapped back and yelled for her to stay away.

"Enough visions! If anything in you is human… kill me now and stop this game! You broke the others, but I will stay strong, for my sake… for theirs…"

"Cullen, you have to listen to me-" Dorian tried but the man shouted against his words.

"Silence! I'll not listen to anything you say. Now be gone!" he waved his hand and commanded. Nothing happened. "Still here? But that's always worked before. I close my eyes, but you are still here when I open them."

Dorian attempted to calm the man, but he was beyond listening to anything the mage had to say. Whatever kindness the Templar once had to offer towards mages, had apparently died along with his friends. Dorian sighed, he recalled one mage who would be broken to hear him say such things. He knew, as many did, that Cullen was the Templar who fancied an elven mage.

"Why have you returned to the tower? How did you survive?" Cullen questioned through pained breathing.

"This was once my home, Cullen. Is it surprising to believe I would return to it eventually?" Dorian said calmly.

"As it was mine. And look what they've done to it! They deserve to die. Uldred most of all." The Templar shouted.

"And what of the innocents he has trapped in there, what of the other mages? Do they deserve to die?" Dorian said through gritted teeth.

"There are no innocents! They caged us like animals… looked for ways to break us. I'm the only one left…"

"You mean, treated you as we have been treated…" Dorian glared at the man. Cullen did not hear.

"They turned some into… monsters. And… there was nothing I could do." He said shaking his head.

"Be grateful to have survived." Dorian said, attempting to calm his anger.

"And to think, I once thought we were too hard on you." Cullen snapped.

"Mind what you say, Templar…" Dorian growled. "Think of the mage you once cared for."

Cullen's eyes darted to him, panic and pain shone brightly from them. His lip quivered.

"How… how…" he managed.

"We're not all evil, as you should know." The mage said, head held high.

"Only mages have that much power at their fingertips. Only mages are susceptible to the infernal whispering of the demons."

"And only Templars hold the key to their control? Look how brilliantly your ways have worked! Look at the damage caused because you all believe we are too dangerous for our own good!"

"This only proves it!" Cullen shouted back.

"Proves what? That if you drive someone to a cliff, they will eventually jump? Of course mages will resort to forbidden arts for power, for freedom. Anything to loosen the leash you strangle them with! Tell me Templar, how does beating a child who cries teach them crying is weakness? How does caging a snake make it learn not to be venomous? I thought you of all people would understand us, you cared for one of our kind, and you still say these things!" Dorian finally snapped.

"This is a discussion for another time!" Wynne ordered. Both the mage and Templar looked to her. "Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred, where are they?"

"They are in the Harrowing Chamber." Cullen spoke, shame in his tone. "The sounds coming from there… oh Maker..."

"We must hurry." Wynne instructed. "They are in grave danger, I am sure of it."

"You can't save them! You don't know what they've become." Cullen near begged.

"I am a mage as well. I will not abandon them." Dorian narrowed his eyes.

"But you haven't been up there. You haven't been under their influence. They've been surrounded by blood mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts."

"I am well aware what dark magic is capable of." Dorian had seen all too well the effects of it among his journeys.

"You have to end it now, before it's too late!"

"I will not murder an innocent!" Dorian snapped.

"Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk? To ensure this horror is ended… to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there!"

"I would rather spare maleficarum than risk harming an innocent." Dorian shook his head. As much as he hated blood magic, those in need would forever come first. Wynne placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you. I knew you would make a rational decision."

"Rational? How is this rational? Do you understand the danger?" Cullen begged.

"Coming from you?" Dorian snorted. "I highly doubt rational is your strong point."

"I know full well the dangers of magic, but killing innocents because they might be maleficarum is not justice." Wynne said with finality. "I know you are angry-"

"You know nothing! I am thinking about the future of the Circle of Ferelden!" Cullen shouted, desperation and insanity sparked in his voice.

"I cannot live knowing the blood of innocents has stained my hands and my soul." Dorian spoke through his locked jaw. "I know you Templars sleep well at night knowing so, but I will not murder my brethren because you fear them!"

"I am just willing to see the painful truth, which you are content to ignore!"

"Why should I listen to you? How do I know it is not you who has been possessed?" Dorian said cunningly. "You have been forced to listen to their whispers, just as any of us."

"I am… I am no mage." Was all he could muster to say.

"And yet, your comrades broke. They turned, just as the mages did." Dorian shook his head. He was arguing with stone.

"But… what can I do or say to change your mind?" Cullen sighed, broken.

"Nothing. That is my point." The mage said smugly. "You are simply wasting my time."

"As you can see, I am in no opinion to directly influence your actions, though I would love to deal with the mages myself…" Cullen growled.

"Good, then you won't get in my way." Dorian sneered. "Let us be off."

"No one ever listens… not until it's far too late…" Cullen muttered. "Maker turn his gaze on you. I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all."

"And I hope your order hasn't done the same." Dorian said as he led the others through to the Harrowing Chamber doors.

"Be on you guard and have the Litany on the ready." Wynne ordered.

"Uldred will pay…" Dorian growled as he opened the doors to the horrors within.


	16. To Fix A Circle

_Chapter Sixteen: To Fix A Circle_

The chamber was overpowered with the echoes of pained screaming. Lightning sparks flew through the air and attacked the defenseless mages held firmly to the ground. Nothing kept them still, no rope or binds. Dorian knew what held them firmly in place. Blood magic.

Foul abominations loomed over the trapped mages, shocking and torturing them into submission. And there Dorian found the cause of all this pain. At the head of all the creatures gathering, Uldred stood proudly.

With the mages bleeding agreement, both Uldred and the abominations surrounded the man. Each shocking him with blacked lightning, forcing their dark magic into his body.

Dorian and the others were forced to witness the man transform into a hideous beast. Seeing the creatures was one thing, but witnessing the transformation was sickening.

The man twitched and squirmed. His hands tore into his body, ripping the flesh away from bone. The wounds his hands inflicted revealed the pulsating flesh growing and spreading across his form. His skin bubbled over and swelled. Deformed and twisted, there was nothing left to the mage.

Uldred noticed the intruders, a sinister grin grossed the monsters lips.

"Ah… look what we have here." Uldred sneered. "I remember you. Irving's star pupil."

The crazed mage sauntered over to Dorian. The mage stood his ground, staff ready to smite Uldred down at a moment's notice. He could sense something stirring within the senior mage, something dark and powerful. He doubted if there was anything human left to Uldred.

"Uldred didn't think much of you then." Uldred spoke, referring to himself in third person. "And I certainly don't see your appeal now…"

"I am a mage of the Circle, and what you've done is my concern. I will not let you plague my people further, Demon." Dorian raised his staff in a threating manor.

"I'm quite impressed you're still alive. Unfortunately, that must mean you killed my servants." The monster-mage mused. "Ah, well, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence."

"Don't worry, you'll be united with them soon enough." Dorian growled.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Uldred held his hands up pleading. "Let's not be hasty… I'm trying to have a civilized conversation here."

"I do not speak with Demons! This torture will not continue!"

"A mage is but the larval form of something greater." Uldred attempted to sooth. "Your Chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential!"

"You're insane!" Dorian shouted.

"Look at them." The crazed mage continued. "The Chantry has them convinced. They deny themselves the pleasure of becoming something… glorious. Isn't that right? Tell our friend how much happier you are now." Uldred spoke to his creations.

One of them raised it arms, as if in appraisal.

"It is a beautiful gift you have given us." It spoke in its snarling voice.

"See?" Uldred grinned. "It would be so much easier if they all simply accepted it and opened their hearts to me. But some people can be so… stubborn…"

"I'm proud of each of them for fighting you! They will be avenged!" Dorian was attempting to see an easy way to attack Uldred. Head on would not be smart, the abominations would strike him down before he had a chance. He needed to wait for an opening.

"And what good did that do? I still won." Uldred cackled. "Wait… what do we have here? Why, it's the First Enchanter. Come say hello to your old pet apprentice, Irving."

Uldred stalked over to Dorian's former teacher. With one hand he yanked the elderly man's head up to look to Dorian. The young mage saw the dried blood spouted from the elder's nose. The bruises around his eyes. The old man twitched and writhed, struggling to break from his hold.

"Don't mind the blood. He's had a… hard day." Uldred smirked, releasing Irving.

"Stop… him…" Irving muttered through batted breath. "He is… building an army… he will… destroy the Templars and-"

"You're a sly little fox, Irving. Telling on me like that. And here I thought he was starting to turn." Uldred mocked.

"N-never…" Irving struggled to breath against his hold. Dorian had to remain still, he couldn't attack, not yet.

"Hush. That's enough out of you, Irving. He'll serve me, eventually. As will you…" Uldred snarled.

"I'd sooner die!" Dorian was starting to see his chance.

Uldred continued to mock Dorian and the Circle. Completely oblivious to what Dorian was planning. It was becoming clear the demon that possessed Uldred was one of pride.

"Your raw potential, with the strength of a demon behind it, would be unstoppable. I can do that… I can give you power, and a new life… freedom…" Uldred purred through a demonic voice.

"That doesn't sound all that appealing, to be honest. I prefer not looking like a rotten piece of meat." Dorian mocked.

"I don't think your opinion matters. That is what I've decided, and this is what will be done." Uldred's body began to spasm, his eyes twitched and bulged. "Fight, if you must… it will just make my victory all the… sweeter…"

The mage began to bubble and grow, Uldred was releasing his true form. This was the sign Dorian was waiting for, at those moments he would be the most vulnerable.

"Take out the abominations!" Dorian ordered the others. All at once, his companions lunged into battle.

Dorian on the other hand, raced towards Uldred. Abominations pounced on Dorian, but before they had a chance to strike, several life ending spells gripped them in pain. Followed by the slashing of Leliana's blades. Dorian was able to attack Uldred without fear of being overpowered.

Uldred squirmed and screeched as his body peeled away. Out from his flesh, a powerful demon of pride clawed its way free. The beast towered over Dorian. Luckily, given the chance during transformation Dorian was able to release several slowing and paralysis spells onto the beast, slowing him down temporarily.

He hacked and slashed with all his might, dodging and blocking any attacks the demon had to offer. It seemed distracted. Rather than wanting to fight, its focus was on the other mages trapped in the Chamber. Sensing its abomination followers were close to defeat, the demon was attempting to transform the trapped mages.

"_Do you accept my offer?"_ the demon purred. Black lights swelled around the mages screaming against the pain.

"The Litany! Use the Litany!" Wynne shouted as she burned an abomination.

Dorian drew from his person the parchment. Reading the ancient words, light shone brightly from the text. The demon growled in agony as its dark magic was silenced.

But it didn't stop it entirely, instead it swung a mighty clawed fist at Dorian. Knocking him back, the mage hit a wall. He felt several bones snap. He cried out in pain, feeling his ribs move and twist against their natural position. But he couldn't stop, the demon had to die.

The others had finished off what remained of the abominations, and their attention was now firmly on the pride demon. Wynne attempted a healing spell on Dorian, but it was not strong enough to completely fix his broken body. Regardless, the mage needed to end this. Standing up sluggishly, he continued to read the Litany, all the while casting spells at the demon.

It didn't take long before the beast began to slow and grow weak against the groups attacks. Dorian could sense its power fading, weakening. He knew the beast was soon to fall.

But, the demon wasn't done yet. If it was to die, it was certain to take Dorian with it. Charging at full speed, with the force and power no ogre could compare, it rammed Dorian. But this time, the mage was ready. Drawing his sword, he swung at the beast's legs, setting it off balance. Then began a series of precise strikes, all to areas of great impact. The demon stumbled backwards, clawing at the blackened bloodied wounds pouring from its body. Then, Dorian dropped his staff and gripped his sword with both hands. He leapt at full speed into the beast's chest. Knocking the demon to the ground. Yet, it wasn't enough to kill the creature. So, the mage drew the blade from its chest and with a mighty strike, landing the sword into the demons head. With an ear piercing screech of agony, the beast wiggled against the impact. Then a loud crunch echoed the walls. With that, the demon was silent.

Pulling his blade from the monsters corpse, Dorian stumbled backwards. Gripping his ribs in agony he walked over towards his companions. They all stared awe stricken by what they saw. He ignored them and headed back towards the imprisoned mages. With the demon dead, they were finally free of its hold.

"Maker… I'm too old for this…" Irving groaned as he rose from the ground. Dorian couldn't help but smile at the friendly face.

"Nonsense." Dorian grinned, Irving raised a familiar eyebrow to him. As he always did.

"Irving! Are you alright?" Wynne stressed.

"I've…ugh… been better. But I am thankful to be alive. I suppose that is you're doing, isn't it, Wynne?" Irving rubbed his head.

"I wasn't alone. I had help." The mage smiled to Dorian.

"I must admit, I was surprised to see you standing there Dorian. But, I am glad you have returned." Dorian's old mentor held his hand out.

Dorian took it, and smiled to the First Enchanter.

"I am glad I was able to help." Dorian nodded.

"The Circle owes both of you a debt we will never be able to repay. Come, the Templars await. We shall let them know that the tower is once again ours."

…

"You cannot travel, not in your state." Wynne argued as she bandaged the wounded Warden. Dorian winced as she pulled the bandages tighter.

"I have to. Besides, with some magic I'll be right as rain." He hungrily guzzled down a health poultice.

The room buzzed with movement as the Templars began helping mages out into the entrance of the tower. Several of the apprentice children ran about playing, happy to know the nightmare was over with. Dorian spied Leliana chatting to several of them, he grinned at the sight. Then winced as Wynne strapped another bandage on.

He had all intentions of leaving as soon as he finished discussing with Irving and Gregoir the towers situation, but Wynne had other plans. Practically shoving him onto a seat, she ordered him to remove his robe so she could heal his broken ribs. He grumpily did so.

Irving and several Templars and mages prepared for the journey they were to make to Redcliffe. Dorian severely wanted everyone to go as soon as possible. It would take the rest of the day to reach the castle by boat. So much time had already been wasted.

As soon as Wynne learned he was planning to fly to Orzamar gates, she repeated lecture after lecture. Dorian hoped this would not be a regular occurrence with the woman. If so, he would regret allowing her to join his quest.

"If one of your ribs burst out on the journey, what will you do then? Hmm?" she prodded him with a bony finger.

"Heal it. I am a mage you know." He rolled his eyes.

"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." She walked off to help the others. Dorian let out a breath of relief.

He looked down to see the senior mages handy work, and was rather startled. The body he was looking onto, didn't appear to be his own. In place of his normally thin frame, muscles had formed around his body. He wasn't bulging like some Qunari warrior, but there was a noticeable difference. Toned pecks and abs pocked through the cloth that wrapped around them. He flexed his left arm, rather impressed by the sudden tonnage. Though, he was uncertain where they came from.

_Wait… the Fade. All the powers you gathered. They must have affected you more than just spiritually…_

_Interesting…_

He continued to admire his new body, when he heard a small sweet voice in front of him.

"Dory?" He looked up to see a blond elvish girl with a missing tooth staring at him.

"Yes." He smiled to her.

"Is it true you saved everyone?" her big brown eyes sparkled at him. "The pwetty lady said you are a hero."

"A hero?" he chuckled. Looking over to Leliana, she grinned back at him.

"Yeah. You saved everyone!" She then leaped onto the still tender man, gripping him with a big hug. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." He felt his heart warm. He was glad to have saved even one innocent that day.

With that, the little girl ran off giggling. Dorian stared after her, smiling to himself. That was something he missed about the tower, the children. He didn't want to think of them his time away, because he knew it would hurt. The best thing about becoming an elder apprentice, was being able to teach the children some spells. He enjoyed the lessons, and the children seemed to like him.

Seeing that girl lying there inside the tower… it shattered him. He knew at that moment, whatever brought this hell onto the people he cared about, it had to pay. But none of that mattered now. Uldred was dead, and majority of the Circle was still safe.

Dorian smiled to Leliana as she played with the children. He was thankful for all her support, especially that day.

It had been some time since Dorian had left the others in falcon form to go on his own personal venture. Leliana stared off into the distance on the ship, hoping whatever he was doing, he would make it back soon. She was finding it harder and harder to cope spending time away from him.

She also needed to apologies for not remembering him in the Fade. For being so easily fooled by the demons tricks. She felt ashamed.

Something about the dream had made her incredibly confused. Despite not recognizing Dorian, she felt she knew him. She couldn't help but stare at the doe eyed stranger, and long to believe what he said. She trusted him. She even looked onto him, and felt extremely… attracted to him. Which at the time she found incredibly odd, this was in her mind a complete stranger after all.

Yet none of it seemed truly wrong. Which confused her greatly. It was becoming obvious, she was more than just attracted to the mage. Her feelings were much stronger.

Her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of Zevran 'making friends'. He was offending Wynne and the other mages by asking if they have 'naked rituals'. She couldn't help but chuckle, typical Zevran. She was relieved to see him waiting at the docks with Spirit, as if he never left. Apparently he had spent his time at the inn having a pleasant drink or two. Leliana at that moment would have enjoyed a nice drink, after the day she had.

"You care for him. Don't you." Leliana heard an unwelcomed voice. "I can see it in your eyes."

"What do you want Morrigan." She sighed. She was hoping Morrigan would have traveled by air, but apparently the witch required rest.

"I am merely pointing out what is easy to see." She shrugged. "Take my observation as you will."

"I do not wish to argue more on this." Leliana said without taking her eyes off the sky. Imagining where Dorian was at that moment.

"Neither do I. Tis clear something is there. It would be unwise not to act soon. Men can easily loose interest, waiting around. Perhaps then, he would be willing to see what I have to offer." Her smirk was easy to see in her voice.

"Why would you toy with his emotions?" Leliana locked her jaw. "If you even so much as consider him a friend, you would not treat him as a play thing."

Morrigan did not bother to respond, instead she simply strutted over to the box of supplies Dorian had gathered and began searching. Leliana continued to wonder what it was the witch was looking for.

She thought on what Morrigan had said. Perhaps, she did need to say something. Even just to clear the air, let him know that was how she felt. If he didn't feel the same, then so be it. They could go on being friends and forget she said anything…

_Like that would be possible…_

Leliana was finding it harder and harder each day not to think about him. Her experience in the Fade had only increased the thoughts, helped to finally own up to her feelings. Even still, she wasn't willing to admit just how deep they went. She wasn't ready for that.

_What if he is? What if that is what he wants? Will you be able to give it to him? Be what he needs?_

She groaned and shook her head. This was becoming borderline obsession now. Leliana wasn't like this, she didn't pine over men or women. She didn't long for them, need them to be near. It was a weakness, a weakness she couldn't afford. And yet, it was she who argued to Morrigan the power of love…

She groaned again and tried to think of something else. Absentmindedly, she twirled her hidden necklace around in her fingers. Tracing the silver sword, remembering the day she found it on her pillow. He must have left it for her while she bathed. It was so thoughtful, so kind. How like him. She hadn't been able to take it off since.

Once again Leliana groaned. She had failed entirely to not think of Dorian. She needed to end this, to do something about her infatuation. Once and for all.

_I've known him for some time. It should be easy to talk about it… we are friends. He has seen my ups and my downs. I must have the strength to tell him._

_What if he rejects you?_

_Then so be it. I put my feelings in place, and we continue being friends. Whatever he wants. _

_What about you?_

_What about me? I am not important here. I will not hurt him or pressure him into anything. He has trouble trusting people as it is._

_You need to think about yourself as well. You are not as unbreakable as you believe. _

_I am not as fragile either. I can handle rejection, I am a big girl. _

_If you believe so. But, what do you need?_

_Maker if I know! Right now all I can think about his cheeky face and that smug crooked grin…_

She groaned and placed her head firmly in her hands. This was going to be tougher than she thought. She shook her head, thinking how foolish it was that a grown woman couldn't even figure out her own emotions.

Looking down, her eyes traced the shape of the silver staff. It glistened in the sunlight.

_Well, I can offer something for all his hard work. He deserves this in the least._

"Bleeding scavengers and their thieving… waste my time…" Dorian grumbled as he entered Redcliffe castle.

The trip to Orzamar had been a near waste of time. After interrogating the man who found Sten's sword, he learned the scavenger had sold it to a dwarf in Redcliffe. Coincidentally, the same dwarf Dorian had roped into joining the battle against the undead. At least he knew the sword was there, he just had to wait until the demon was sorted before dealing with that.

"You're here!" Alistair exclaimed.

Dorian looked up and smiled, though was rather surprised when he noticed what the man was wearing. Alistair was dressed in blue and silvery white armor, sporting a golden Griffon on the chest plate. The same armor from Dorian's dream in the Fade. Alistair noticed his expression.

"Ah. While you were away, Levi and his brother paid us a visit. He recalled you were heading here after helping him, he hoped you hadn't left already. Apparently they found all this Warden Issue supplies. Swords, shields and armor. They thought as a thank you for everything, they would bring it to you. They had to come here anyway, to begin trade. It was really nice of them."

"It is." Dorian nodded.

"There is a set for you as well. Although its mage design, less clunky armor. Also, he brought you the specially made item you requested. But, the First Enchanter is waiting." With that Alistair and Dorian headed into the main hall.

True to his word, Irving was preparing the ritual along with several other senior Enchanters including Wynne. Jowan stood offside, locked in irons. Templars stood closely behind the chained mage, ready to kill him at a seconds notice. He looked to Dorian and smiled weakly.

"Ah! There you are." Irving greeted.

Isolde and the others gathered around, ready to get the ritual underway.

"We have brought Lyrium and begun preparations for the ritual. We can start anytime." The elder mage said calmly.

"Any last minute tips?" Dorian said lightly. Isolde scowled at his unserious nature.

"It truly depends on the manner of demon. It sounds like a spirit of greed and desire, one of the more powerful in the hierarchy." He said matter-of-factly. "It will likely engage you in dialogue and tempt you with an offer. Avoid it. Making deals with demons never turns out well."

"Surely, you think more of me than that?" Dorian snorted.

"Just a precaution, friend." Irving chuckled.

"Alright, I'm ready." Dorian nodded. He knew he had to be the one to do this.

"I'm glad we decided to take this route. This is really the best option." Alistair added.

"Luckily, it appears to have worked out so far." Dorian nodded. He didn't think it necessary to recount the ordeal they went through in order to have this option.

"Very well. I assume you are going into the Fade. Or did you have someone else in mind?" Irving questioned. Though, Dorian knew the man trusted in his pupil's judgment.

"I will go. It is my duty." Dorian nodded.

"Good. Let us get the ritual underway, then-"

"Wait!" Jowan interrupted, the room turned to him. "Let me do it… don't risk yourself because of my actions."

"You, how dare you!" Isolde screeched. Dorian forgot how annoying that was.

"Please, I will make everything right. Trust me." Jowan begged.

Dorian sighed. He walked gingerly towards his childhood friend. His bones still ached slightly from his previous injuries. Jowan stared to Dorian, shame and self-loathing plain on his face. Dorian no longer hated his friend, not after everything he saw at the tower. He was just grateful Jowan lived. Swiftly, he held his friend into an embrace. Jowan stiffened at Dorian's hug, unsure what to make of it. Dorian pulled away after a moment.

"I do trust you. I shouldn't, but it do." Dorian sighed.

"Then let me fix this." Jowan pleaded.

"Jowan… you never passed your Harrowing. You have not braved the Fade or the raw power from demons. I have, more times than you can possibly imagine. I am best for this job."

"You can't-" Jowan started.

"Your blood magic and inexperience put you at a great risk. I can't risk the boy… or you."

"But I-" Jowan attempted once more to reason.

"Trust me." Dorian smiled.

With that, he returned back to the gathering. All eyes on him, he ignored them and looked onto Irving.

"Let us be done with this." he said closing his eyes. "I've had enough of the Fade for a lifetime."

…

Dorian stretched, attempting to pop his neck back into place. With a satisfying click, he leaned back on his elbows against the beds soft mattress. His legs dangled over the edge, swaying slightly.

Lady Isolde, beyond grateful, offered rooms to Dorian and his companions. Dorian had insisted to get moving that evening, but the others had suggested he needed a good night's rest.

Dorian wanted to check on Connor, to make sure he was fine after being released from the demon. But, thought he should leave the boy for now. He had suffered enough, rest would be necessary for the child as well. He knew the demon would have left its mark on Connor, he just hoped time would heal his scars. Dorian sensed the boy's powerful magic, Connor would grow to make a fine mage one day.

Thinking on mages, he hoped Jowan would be fine. Irving had sworn to do all he could to help the mage, but it wouldn't be until Arl Eamon was cured, would Jowan's fate be decided. Dorian preyed with his influence and the First Enchanters that the blood mage would be shown mercy for his compliance.

Dorian sighed, clicking his neck from side to side. It was good to be reunited with his other companions. Sten was grateful to Dorian for locating his missing sword, and would wait until his 'Kadan' was ready before retrieving it. Whatever Kadan meant. He was glad to see Alistair as well. Once the demon was dealt with, Alistair pulled Dorian aside and apologized repetitively for what he had said in the heat of the moment. Dorian completely forgot Alistair had even said anything worth apologizing for. Apparently Alistair had dwindled on the memory of his outburst about mages far more than Dorian did.

He heard a light tap on the door. The door creaked slightly as it was sent a jar.

"Can I come in?" Alistair nervously poked his head through the gap.

"Sure, can't seem to fall asleep. Company is welcome." Dorian smiled.

Alistair shuffled into the room, carrying Dorian's new armor and a wrapped package. The mage sat straight at the sight, curiosity peaked.

"Thought I would bring you your things." The larger Warden murmured, still walking on eggshells with Dorian.

Despite catching up over dinner and acting as friends should, Alistair was still obviously embarrassed. He seemed to ease up after a while luckily, enough to discuss a little more about his past to Dorian.

"Thank you, I have been wanting to see my new equipment." Dorian grinned wide eyed at his new armor.

Alistair laid it across the bed. It was just the same as the armor from his dream. The blue robes was embedded with fine chainmail. A small chest plate proudly held the griffon crest. Dorian smiled at them.

"Guess we will look the part now." Dorian said holding them up to admire.

"Well, since you insist on not wearing the Commander armor, at least people will not mistake you for anything other than a Warden." Alistair beamed.

"Won't that cause problems? What with Loghain hunting us?" Dorian raised his quizzical eyebrow.

"Once we cure Eamon, we won't have to worry about that anymore. And besides, we can take down anything that gets in our way." Alistair placed the wrapped parcel neatly beside Dorian. "Open it."

Dorian did so. Unwinding the twine, he noticed Alistair's excited eyes shine down on him. Dorian could tell it was a weapon, the shape gave that much away. But once the cloth was removed, his eyes widened with awe.

Laying on top of the cloth, was a shining blade. It was no ordinary blade though, this sword was something of legends. Unlike any other long sword Dorian had ever seen, the blade was curved and shaped into a jagged point. Even the handle had been carefully crafted. The shape was not the most extraordinary quality about it though. What was remarkable, was the colour and markings.

"As soon as Levi and his brother showed me, I thought instantly how befitting you were to wield it." Alistair smiled. "It was made just for you."

Dorian held the blade up, watching the diamond blue colour dance in the candle light. It was incredible, the colours matched Dorian's tainted blue glow perfectly. With a swift flick, he waved the sword. The blade hummed in the air. The markings sparked and shone with the movement.

"It's incredible…" Dorian murmured.

"A fine blade, for a fine leader." Alistair beamed. "Well… I should probably leave you to your rest."

"Yes, tell the others to be ready by sun up. We leave for Denerim early. Should take us some time to reach the village, and Maker only knows where we will have to venture after that." Dorian sighed, placing his blade back on the bed.

"It will be okay." Alistair smiled. "Are we still able to see if we can find my sister? Since we will be at the village anyway…" he quietly asked.

Dorian had almost forgotten the conversation Alistair and he shared earlier that evening. His mind seemed to be in a shambles. He smiled and nodded to his friend, he had promised to help his friend find this illusive sister. He would not break that promise.

"Thank you." The Warden smiled as he headed for the door. "Oh, and again… I am really sorry for what I said… really…"

"I told you, its fine Alistair." Dorian grinned. "I think you have groveled enough for one day."

"Okay… I'll continue tomorrow." Alistair laughed. "Rest well Dorian."

With that, the larger Warden left the room. Dorian rose up from his bed gingerly, carrying both sword and armor. Carefully, he laid them on the desk beside the window. He smiled down at them, never had he owned something so spectacular. Well, there was one other thing he owned.

He looked over to the staff leaning against the bed. During dinner Leliana had pulled him aside. Instructing he closed his eyes, Leliana presented to him the spectacular staff. Claiming the one he used was inefficient, and would have been honored if he accepted her gift. His eyes lit up at the sight of the silver serpent staff. He had admired it in the Tower's quartermaster stocks, but the man's price was far too high. She must have seen him eyeing it off and decided to buy it with her own money. So thoughtful, so like Leliana.

The silver staff sparkled nicely in the dim light. The two serpent heads twisted together, their mouths held a red orb. Such a powerful staff, something a First Enchanter would have used. It was beyond a thoughtful gesture.

He leaned against the desk, fingers tapping along the wood. He racked his brain for a way to repay her. After everything they had been through, after all her support, he wanted to thank her. To show how much he appreciated everything she did for him.

He drummed his fingers along the desk, a slow rhythm tapped along nicely. He chewed his lip, deep in thought. The more he drummed along, the more a beat developed. Finally, he had an idea.

Leaping a bit higher than his broken bones liked, he ran over to his pack. Pulling forth his journal, he sat at the desk. In the candle light, the mage scribbled and scribed the words flowing in his head.


	17. Baby Steps

_Chapter Seventeen: Baby Steps_

"I spy with my little eye…" Zevran chanted as the group wandered onward through the lands.

"Zevran…" Dorian groaned. This game the elf insisted on playing was becoming tiresome. His lack of sleep had left the mage in a rather testing mood.

"Something beginning with, B." the elf continued.

"Butterflies?" Alistair asked. Dorian sighed, though he was becoming annoyed by the game, the others were apparently enjoying it. Zevran shook his head.

"Blackberries?" Leliana asked. Another shake from the elf's head.

"Bolder?" Dorian looked wide eyed as the Qunari gave his answer. He hadn't guessed Sten would be into that type of game. Or many games at all.

"Birds?" even Wynne had decided to join.

"WHERE!" Shale began waving her stone fists about, swatting invisible birds. Dorian had to chuckle slightly at the sight, the stone giant's paranoia for troublesome birds was at times humorous.

"Incorrect." Zevran chuckled. "Beautiful Bosoms'." He grinned devilishly. The group groaned at his crude sense of humor.

"That is two words!" Alistair argued.

"And very inappropriate as well, I might add." Wynne scoffed.

"Only if it isn't yours, my dearest mage." Zevran purred.

Dorian sighed. It had been a few days since leaving Redcliffe, and the group was growing restless with the journey. They still had some way to travel before reaching Denerim, and as the days past the closer the Blight was approaching. Dorian felt as if every step they took into helping Ferelden, it only put them right back to where they started. Nowhere near victory.

The dreams of dark trenches and snarling beasts had all but consumed his sleep. Each night the mage spent restlessly tossing about in his bedroll. Cursing and muttering as he tried to push aside the nightmares. Each morning he would sluggishly rise from his tent, dark shadows around his eyes. Alistair didn't seem to be as effected by the dreams, Dorian assumed it was the mages enhanced taint causing the problem. All for the greater good, he would mumble.

Still, he was glad to have such a lively bunch accompany him. Often Dorian was able to forget his worries and sit and enjoy a laugh or two with his friends. Even his newest companion Wynne was at times enjoyable to be around. When she wasn't lecturing Dorian about various things of course. Often she would interrupt his usual discussions with the others to remind him just how dire his duties were. As if Dorian could ever forget. It took all his patience not to blow up at the senior mage.

Adjusting his pack, Dorian tried to think clearly just how close the Blight was. From what he could tell with the consistency of his dreams, there wasn't much time. His dreams were becoming more vivid, more violent. The beasts below their feet were almost ready to attack. Soon, they would be unstoppable. In the months of travel, Dorian had barely gathered an army worthy of any battle. He still had a long way to go. It all seemed so hopeless.

"Everything alright, _mon ami_?"

Snapping his head up he turned to see his trusted Orlesian archer walking in pace with him. He smiled, at least not everything seemed hopeless. Her smile never failed to lighten his dark moods.

"Just deep in thought." He shrugged.

"Anything I can help with?" she frowned with worry. She stressed too much over his troubles. Smiling he leaned into her, nudging her shoulder slightly.

"You help me every day, _mon ami_." He smiled, the words didn't sound nearly as nice coming from his Ferelden voice.

"Your speech is improving." She grinned.

"_Merci_." He chuckled.

Upon leaving Redcliffe Dorian asked if Leliana would be willing to teach him to speak Orlesian, as a way to pass the time and distract him from his burdens. Dorian was a fast learner, so it didn't take long to memories a few phrases and words. Leliana seemed overjoyed by his interest in her native tongue. Though, she was a little curious as to why he suddenly wanted to know it. He would shrug, saying curiosity was a strange thing. In truth, he wanted to add some of her native words to something he was working on in his journal.

"What's so amusing?" the blonde Warden grinned. "I can hear you two all the way back there."

"Oh nothing." Leliana smiled. "Just enjoying each other's company."

"Ooooh I see." Alistair smirked.

"See what?" Dorian raised his eyebrow.

"No, I get it. Don't tell me the dirty secrets you two lovebirds are sharing." Alistair grinned cheekily.

"Lovebirds?!" both the mage and bard chocked.

"I said nothing, don't mind me." Alistair chuckled at their reactions. "Honestly, you two are so easy to set off. You are making it less fun."

"Alistair…" Dorian growled. "How well do you remember your Templar training?"

"Pretty well, whys that?" he asked.

"Just wondering how easy it would be to electrocute you…" Dorian snickered.

"I… forget I said anything… Sheash… you mages are so sensitive." Alistair cowered.

The three of them couldn't help but laugh at one and other. Though Dorian and Leliana both seemed to be a few shades of pink, thanks to their Templar friend. Alistair keeping in pace with the mage and bard, seemed to mull a thought over in his mind. Dorian sensed his uneasy nature, wondering what troubled the man.

"So…" Alistair finally said. "Do we know how to find this Brother Genetivi?"

"Isolde gave me his address. Well, the address she sent her soldiers to. Once we arrive in Denerim, we investigate the area and see if we can find his whereabouts. Might catch a break and it will be as simple as I plan." Dorian shrugged.

"When have our plans ever been simple?" Leliana teased.

"My point exactly." Dorian chuckled. "We are lucky I haven't lead us off the face of the earth yet."

"It isn't your planning skills that seem to be the problem, it's everyone's reaction to them." Leliana nodded with a smile.

"Ah yes, the people of Ferelden didn't get my message about cooperation it would seem." Dorian shook his head, amused. "Instead, they prefer sending me back and forth. At times I feel like a glorified errand boy."

"We should charge a fee." Alistair chuckled. "So, what do we do after we've been to Denerim?" Alistair scratched the bit of scruff on his chin.

"Well, when we find Genetivi, we see what he knows of these fabled 'Sacred Ashes'. I highly doubt he found them though." Dorian sighed. "What we do after that, I haven't the foggiest."

"What do we do if we can't find the ashes?"

"Honestly Alistair, I don't know." Dorian said calmly. "All I know is if we can't cure Eamon, someone needs to take his place and give us the soldiers we need. We can't be wasting time, so much has slipped past us already."

"Yes, we have to be ready to take on Loghain." Alistair nodded.

"No." both Leliana and Alistair turned to Dorian. "He is not my priority. Never was. I have to stop the Blight, if he gets in the way of that… then and only then is he my problem. Right now, he is only a small issue. I can feel the horde preparing, we haven't the time to be going on treasure hunts and political debates."

Dorian rubbed the black circles around his eyes. He would give anything for a good night's rest, maybe then he would be able to think clearly. It felt as if his mind was looking down a black tunnel. One end he stood staring down onto the fires of the Blight. As if his nightmares were now affecting him during the day as well.

"But Loghain must be stopped." Alistair snapped.

"No, the Blight must be." Dorian replied. "The other Warden's knew this. We fight darkspawn, not tyrants."

Dorian remembered the fate of the Warden's at Soldier's Peek. Alistair had not been there, he wondered if his views would have changed if he had seen what Dorian did. Then again, maybe not. The older Warden was focused on one goal it seemed. Revenge.

Silence. The three of them walked in unison, neither knowing what to say to break the quiet. Dorian didn't need to say anything though. He said what was the plan, if none agreed then nothing was forcing them to stay. If everyone insisted on Dorian being the leader, then he would lead as he saw fit. He had to remain focused on the only thing that was certain; the Blight had to end. Alistair seemed to stew on Dorian's words, then nodded. Finally he broke the silence.

"I better go see Bodan, find out what he has for dinner." Dorian nodded as the senior Warden walked off. His blue and white armor clanking with each step.

"You are doing the right thing, you know." The Orlesian woman spoke.

"Sorry?" Dorian looked to her.

"Alistair is consumed by vengeance, all he sees is the immediate enemy. You have to focus on stopping the Blight, we all do. I joined you because the Blight must be stopped. The Maker knows this. But, Loghain is a dangerous man, he may get in the way of our mission. So, we still have to be prepared to stop him as well." Leliana spoke honestly. "He betrayed his king and the king's forces. He cannot be trusted to see reason."

"Yes, but it was the king who endangered everyone. Not one man is to blame. He needs to be given the chance to work with us."

Dorian had never truly thought on the incident at Ostagar. Despite Loghain being a coward for abandoning the forces to die, it was not him who put their lives on the line.

"Cailan was blinded by glory. I saw it in his eyes, he even admitted he wanted this to be a true Blight. What kind of person wishes death and destruction? To want battle and bloodshed? To wish such an evil upon the land. He wanted to become a legend. Cailan did not listen to Duncan, or Loghain…" he scratched his scruffy chin, deep in contemplation on the events of that fateful night.

"I never thought of it that way…" Leliana muttered, thinking on what Dorian said.

"And even then, it was the horde that took the final blow. There was too many, even if Loghain sounded the reinforcements… it would have continued to be a blood shed. If we are to blame anyone, blame the darkspawn. For a time… I did blame Loghain. But, as I have thought more on it… who's to say none of us wouldn't have done the same?"

"What if Alistair is right, what if he did it to gain the crown?"

"That is a big possibility, I have seen enough of the corruption and greed in man to believe he acted selfishly. I do not doubt that was his main concern. But, I am not the one to pass judgment on him. I am no better, I have made mistakes just as any man." He shrugged.

"You speak like a Chantry brother." Leliana smiled.

"More so, I do not want to be the one to make the final decision. I know nothing of politics, or penitence. Perhaps… given the chance… he would do what is right."

"You think he should be given mercy, in order to make up for his mistakes? I doubt many would agree with your humble belief." Leliana looked to him, hope in her eyes. "If only so many shared the kindness and forgiveness you hold in your heart."

"I… just…" Dorian swallowed hard, feeling embarrassed by Leliana's compliments. "I don't blame him… I don't blame anyone…"

Dorian sighed. Unlike Alistair, Dorian did not blame one man for what took place that night on the battlefield. Instead he swore to avenge Duncan, the man who saved his life, by helping to stop the Blight. It was the darkspawn that took his life, why was he the only one who saw it that way?

"Anyway… It's getting late. Better set up camp." With that, he walked off, leaving Leliana behind.

He didn't like discussing the Blight, especially with her. It was bad enough the creatures haunted his sleep, now it always seemed his days focused on the monsters as well. They were consuming his very mind. He rubbed his head, it felt so heavy.

…

With a small flick of his fingers, the kindling went up in flames. Bringing to life the once dying fire. Dorian eased onto the bedroll he laid before the fire pit. He silently hoped a night under the stars would give him enough rest. Or at least help him relax enough to regain some lost energy. He propped himself up on his elbows and stared into the dancing flames.

He felt a heavy nudge beside him. A small whimper sounded in his ears.

"Hey boy." The mage wrapped his arm around the Mabari's huge head. "I'm alright."

"What a day…" Dorian lifted his head to see his tall friend staring down at him. Alistair was holding a bowl out for his companion, and a nice big bone for Spirit.

"You can say that again… tomorrow will be no less tiresome I imagine. Still, another day closer to Denerim." He graciously took the bowl and allowed his hound to greedily grab the bone. Alistair took a seat beside his friend. "Uh… what is this?"

"Lamb stew." Alistair chuckled. "And don't worry, Wynne cooked it."

"Thank the Maker." Dorian grinned, then hungrily guzzled mouthfuls of the meaty stew. "I think last time you cooked Leliana nearly died of an aching belly. 'Feed this to the darkspawn, and we will win the Blight'. I believe her exact words were."

"Bah, Orlesian's and their fussy stomachs." Alistair chuckled. "Hey… that might not be a bad idea actually. They'll be too busy running to the privy to fight us."

Dorian smiled and continued to eat, enjoying the heat of the fire on his aching bones. The light danced off his white tunic. Alistair nervously fidgeted.

"How do you feel? You know, about it all?" he finally asked.

"All? What in particular?" Dorian chuckled mid mouthful.

"Well… the Blight. But, more specifically, everything you've had to do. It can't have been easy to…"

"To?" Dorian pressed, his attention now fully on his Warden friend. Whenever Alistair danced around a subject it was always something serious.

"Well it's just… Wynne informed me about everything that happened at the Tower." He rubbed his thick neck.

"Ah." Dorian nodded, but continued to eat. He rolled his aching soldier, the scratchy fabric rubbed his already sore skin. He winced slightly.

For a moment, the two were quiet. Alistair unsure how to proceed, and Dorian too busy eating to really want to speak. But eventually he figured his friend desired a form of a response.

"To be honest…I haven't really had much of a chance to think about it. We saved majority, it could have ended far worse." He said between spoonfuls.

"Yeah but… you spent your life there. You grew up with those people… to have to…" Alistair visibly shivered. Dorian wondered how much Wynne had told him. He assumed what the ex-Templar was referring to was slaying abominations.

"It had to be done… you of all people should understand that." Dorian shrugged, trying not to sound bitter.

"Hey, that's not fair…." Alistair looked to him, hurt in his eyes.

"I didn't mean anything by it… I just…" Dorian sighed, placing the bowl down. "What's done is done." He said flatly.

"But still-"

"It does not do well to dwindle on the past… for your sake and the sake of others. It's simply easy to put it aside, think about it another time. Once the answer is clearer." Dorian said with a heavy sigh.

"Is that healthy?" Alistair shook his head. "You were the one who told me to let it out about Duncan and everything that happened. Perhaps you would feel better if you did the same."

"Perhaps… but fifteen years of my life can't all be reflected on in one evening." Dorian huffed.

"That's an awfully long time to keep things to yourself." Alistair looked sadly onto his friend.

"It is." Dorian sighed.

"Well… you know I am here for you. And if you don't want to talk with me… I'm sure there is someone who would be willing to listen." Alistair smiled.

Dorian couldn't help but look over the fire, where he knew Wynne and Leliana stood. The two were talking as Leliana helped the senior mage put up her tent. Dorian smiled, he always admired Leliana's helpful nature.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden." The mage finally said, rubbing his gloved hands together.

"I don't think she would think of it like that. You know she cares about you." Alistair grinned.

"I know, she is a true friend." Dorian nodded in agreement. Alistair began chuckling.

"Oh come on. Just a friend?" he playfully tussled Dorian's shaggy mane. "I think you're kidding yourself if you think that's all she is. I've seen the looks you two give each other, especially when you think no one's watching."

"We don't-" Dorian protested.

"Oh you don't do it intentionally, but those longing glances while the other isn't looking. Especially you. And then… you sigh." Alistair reenacted a loud sigh. Dorian felt his cheeks brighten.

"I don't look _'longingly'_…" the mage grumbled.

"He's right you know." An Antivan accent added behind the two Warden's. "You two need to stop undressing each other with your eyes and start-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Dorian covered his ears with his hands and blushed violently. His two friends chuckled loudly.

"I don't normally agree with the perverted little elf, but he is kinda right…" Alistair blushed.

"I beg your pardon?" Dorian looked rather crazed to his friend.

"I mean… not like that… well…" Alistair back peddled.

"Ha! You Ferelden boys are all so bashful. Go string her bow I say." Zevran sat by Sten and began sharpening his curved sword.

"Well… now that he's added his sovereigns worth… what I meant was it would be better if you just told her how you felt. Then you could both stop tiptoeing around the issue." Alistair smiled awkwardly.

"Does everyone know everything about my private feelings accept me?" Dorian huffed. "I don't even know how I feel."

"Trust me, I know what it's like. But, I think Leliana really cares about you." Alistair smiled reassuringly.

"Why would she? She has been all around Thedas. Seen so many wonderful things, been with amazing and adventurous people. I'm just some confused and awkward mage… who didn't even fit in with his own people." Dorian sighed and brushed his fringe from his face. "Why would she possibly want to be with me?"

"Wow… if that's all you see in yourself… than you haven't been looking hard enough." Alistair said with a shake of his head. "But, I'm not the one to teach you how wrong you are…" he placed a hand on his friends shoulder. "She is."

"But… how would I even start? What would I say?" Dorian stared at Leliana, brow furrowed as he contemplated what to do.

"Maybe just… say it?" Alistair shrugged, unsure.

"Say it? Say what?" Dorian turned to him. "Leliana, I know I am a bit of a tit and kind of all over the place… have less than no experience with wooing… but I think you are incredibly amazing and I would like your permission to worship the air you breathe?" Dorian chuckled, trying to mask his nerves with humor.

"Wow, coming on slightly strong there." Zevran laughed.

"Honesty is often the key." Alistair roared with laughter. "But maybe… not so full on? Might come off a bit… desperate? Unless… do girls like desperate?" Alistair scratched his head.

"Not normally, no." Zevran said with a loud chuckle. "Depends on the lady in question."

"Well… what would you guys do, then?" Dorian crossed his arms.

"Hmmm." Alistair tapped his lips in thought. "Maybe. 'Leliana, I am a man… and you are a woman…."

"Really? I don't think she noticed. Here I was thinking I looked like a tree." Dorian laughed. Zevran had to hold his mouth shut, for fear of dying with laughter.

"You want my advice or-"

"Okay, okay, sorry. Go back to your demonstration of stating the obvious." Dorian stifled a chuckle.

"Thank you…. Now, ah hem. 'Leliana, I am a man and you are a woman. And as such, a man has… needs."

"Needs?" Dorian lifted his eyebrow. "I want to tell her I like her, not seem like a bronto on heat."

"And what 'needs' are you refereeing to, my chaste friend?" Zevran was almost rolling on the floor now. Sten seemed to be paying attention to the conversation as well, Alistair fidgeted nervously with all the attention.

"I… um…Good point. What if you kind of… just go for it? Be to the point, tactical." He said with a heavy shrug. "Be confident. Approach the situation head on, strong. Then just…"

"She is a woman… not a genlock. I can't approach it like a battle, what if she thinks I'm being _**to**_ straight forward?"

"You Bas are very… strange." Sten mussed while chewing on a piece of meat.

"I have a few ideas…" Zevran finally silenced his laughter. "They involve candles, scented oils and a little something I like to call-"

"I don't think that would be what I'm looking for either… thank you Zevran." Dorian chocked.

"Well, since I seem to be the only one with any experience… would you be willing to accept some advice?" Zevran lifted his eyebrow with a smirk. "After all, it might be useful? Better than pointing out that you have 'needs'."

"Shut up." Alistair growled.

"Okay… let's hear it." Dorian shook his head, regretting his decision already.

"Well… don't be too formal. Be casual, suave. The ladies like a man who is confident and sexy." Zevran purred.

"Confident, sexy. Got it." Dorian nodded, he seemed pleased with the advice. Alistair was even mentally taking notes.

"And don't act over excited about it. As I said, desperate is not always a good thing. If she thinks you are too into her, she may use that to her advantage."

"That's stupid." Alistair shook his head.

"Is it? If she thinks you would do anything for her, who is to say you won't become her slave… and not in the fun way." Zevran speculated. "Trust me. It's better than being used and manipulated at will."

_Someone seems to have trust issues… Wonder what that's all about._

"Anyway, don't be straight to the point. Ladies like a little mystery, keep them asking for more. Drop hints, make her figure it out. If you come right out, you may startle her."

"She is a woman, not a bunny rabbit." Alistair scoffed.

"Better than treating her like darkspawn." Zevran rebuked.

"But what if she doesn't know what I mean?" Dorian rubbed his forehead. "I'm not very… good with this."

"Obviously." Zevran chuckled. "Just… try and be suggestive, but not too much. Leliana likes to flirt, but being outright direct about intentions has never gotten far with her. She is a lady of finer things, and should be treated as such. Seduce her, gently."

"What… what do you mean?" Dorian was feeling very confused. "I don't want to 'seduce' her. I want to be with her."

"They can sometimes be one in the same." Zevran shrugged. "Treat her like a lady should be treated. Simple as that."

"That's a little patronizing, don't you think Zevran." Alistair scoffed. "I mean, she isn't some noblewoman who is afraid to break a nail."

"Well… that is my advice." Zevran said getting up for his night watch. "Take it as you will."

"Thanks… I guess." Dorian said as the elf left. "I'm not sure how helpful it will be though."

"Leliana isn't like other girls." Alistair said with a chuckle. "I don't know how Zevran's 'moves' would affect her."

"I guess… I just have to… say it?" Dorian groaned.

"I'm not entirely sure what you should do." Alistair shrugged. "I have just as much experience as you do…"

"Ah yes… Haven't licked your fair share of lampposts yet?" Dorian chuckled.

"Ha-ha, can't say I have… Look, Leliana is very understanding. I'm sure if you speak your mind she will know what you mean."

"That's the problem." Dorian laughed. "When I'm with her… my head… it just feels…" he waved his hands about.

"Like it's going to explode?" Alistair chuckled.

"Exactly! Wait… No wait, that sounds bad… I mean, it feels…. Light?" Dorian rubbed his neck. "Maker… if I can't even explain it to you, how am I going to explain it to her?"

"I guess, you'll just have to find out." Alistair shrugged. "But, I think you'll feel better once you say something. Even if it's muddled and confusing."

With that, Alistair took Dorian's empty bowl and headed towards the dish bucket. Leaving the mage to stare over the fire and ponder on what his friends had said. Sighing, he watched as Leliana headed to her tent. He stared longingly after her.

_I do not stare __**longingly**__…._

Shaking his head he tried to clear his thoughts. He needed a chance to think, or preferably a distraction. Perhaps a trip to Bodan's supplies would clear his head, he desperately needed to resupply with Lyrium. He seemed to be going through quite a bit lately. Lack of sleep could do that to a mage. Grabbing his sheathed sword and attaching it to his belt, he headed over to where Bodan and Sandal parked their caravan.

"Ah, Warden Amell. Something we can help with my boy?" Bodan greeted. Dorian cringed at the use of his last name.

"Enchantment?" Sandal added with a hopeful voice.

"Actually, yes Sandal. Now that you mention it. Would you be able to craft me several protection runes? I would like to have more added to everyone's armor." Dorian grinned at the young dwarf. The boy's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Enchantment!" he exclaimed then hurried off to start working on the task he was given

"Bit late to be doing it now, isn't it?" Dorian turned to Bodan.

"Ah, my boy does love his work. Thank you Dorian, for always making sure he has something to do." Bodan took Dorian's hand and shook it gratefully.

"Uh, it's alright. I often feel like I am taking advantage of him." Dorian shrugged nervously at the handshake.

"Not at all! My boy loves working, if anything you give him a purpose on this quest."

"He is a vital part of our journeys, as are you Bodan. Actually, I wanted to purchase some supplies from you." Dorian recalled his purpose for disturbing the traveling dwarves.

"Why of course! Was there anything in particular you needed?" Bodan began rummaging through his boxes.

"Just the usual. Lyrium vials, and a resupply of herbs." Dorian shrugged. "Find anything interesting in the crates from the Circle? It was all kind of grab-and-go, I didn't have time to really see what was in them. Could have a dead mouse in there for all I know."

"No dead mice, I'm afraid." Bodan chuckled. "But there was some nice Orlesian perfumes and a few blank books. Figured they would come in handy for you. And something I found rather interesting."

"The books I understand, but I don't think the perfumes are much use." Dorian laughed.

"I was more thinking on madam Leliana, might make a lovely gift." Bodan continued to rummage.

"Oh…" Dorian blushed.

_Does everyone know how I feel? _

_Except her apparently… and that's where you come in…Wonderful!_

"Ah here we are!" Bodan pulled a very large black leather tome from one of the larger crates.

"What's this?" Dorian asked as he took the book.

"I'm not sure myself. Can't seem to make the writing out on the pages, wasn't sure what to make of it. It was in a rune crate, Sandal found it." Bodan shrugged, then handed Dorian the small pouch of supplies.

"Oh, thank you… I think I may know what this is." Dorian studied the tome, it seemed to match the description. "Have a nice evening Bodan, Sandal." He handed the dwarf the coin pouch and began to leave.

He waved to the dwarves and headed over to the small makeshift camp by the lake. He noticed the small camp was completely dark, Morrigan had already retired for the evening. He would have to give her Flemeth's Grimoire in the morning. She had mentioned to him earlier she was looking for it, he said he would keep an eye out but didn't ever expect to find it. He had hoped the exchange would ease the awkward tension between them. Since he rejected her advances, they were both a little uncomfortable around each other.

Heading back to the main camp, he spied Leliana and Wynne sitting side by side on a fallen log. The two immersed in some conversation, Dorian didn't wish to disturb them. But, noticing his eyes in her direction, Leliana smiled and patted the free spot on the log.

"Evening." He smiled while sitting down. Leliana seemed to lean closer to him, Wynne looked on with a raised eyebrow. "So, what were we discussing?"

"Magic actually." Wynne said turning her eyes to the fire.

"Oh ho, anything in particular about magic?" Dorian crossed his arms and leaned in. "Nothing debatable I hope. I do so detest mage-Templar debates."

"Quite the opposite, actually." Leliana smiled. "I was just saying it must be a wonderful thing, to be able to weave spells."

"I see." Dorian couldn't help but grin to the beautiful lady beside him. He always loved her optimistic view of his curse. She always made it seem bearable. If only someone like her ran the Chantry.

"Wonderful?" the senior mage scoffed. "To you, perhaps. Most do not feel the same way."

"True, true." Dorian nodded with his fellow mage. "I am living proof what happens when mages are seen as a danger." He pointed to his faded scar above his eye.

"Oh, what do they know?" Leliana snorted, both mages looked to her. "They are just jealous. The Maker gives you magic; you must use it."

"Hmm, I see what you were saying Dorian." Wynne chuckled. Leliana turned to Dorian, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing bad." The mage raised his hands in defense. "I was just saying to Wynne just yesterday, that your views were quite extraordinary. She didn't believe how supportive on magic you were."

"You both do it so effortlessly. It's like breathing for you. I wish I had such talent." Leliana sighed returning to look at the fire.

"Oh, but you do. You have your music, your dancing. You are more graceful than anyone I've ever met. I think that perhaps the Maker gives us all magic... but of different sorts."

"Fair point, Wynne." Dorian grinned thinking of Leliana's magical music. How she could captivate an audience with mere words. "If anything, I would prefer your kind of magic Leliana. It comes from talent alone."

"I never thought of it that way." Leliana grinned at Dorian's compliment with a little blush. "I suppose we all have our little gifts. Back in Orlais, I knew a noble lady who was like most of the other noble ladies, fair of face and slow of wit. Anyway, Catarina had the most uncanny ability to tie knots in the stems of cherries, using only her tongue. It was very impressive. The men, especially, loved watching her."

"I wonder why…" Dorian said innocently. Leliana giggled slightly at Dorian's oblivious nature.

"Uh, yes, that's exactly the sort of Maker-given magic I was talking about…." Wynne seemed to be blushing. None of them noticed the elf edging closer and closer to the log.

"Go onnnnn." He purred to Leliana.

"Maker's breath! You startled my old heart, Zevran." Wynne clasped her chest.

"I would gladly rekindle it for you…" Zevran wiggled his eyebrows. Both Wynne and Leliana pulled disgusted faces, while Dorian tried not to laugh.

"Anyway…" Wynne ignored the disturbing assassin. "Dorian, I have been meaning to ask you something."

"Of course?" he leaned forward in order to see the mage whom spoke with him.

"Forgive me for saying this, but what you did the other day, at the Tower was truly remarkable."

The others fell silent. Wynne had not been with the group for long, the others had come to know Dorian was not one to openly discuss such troubling events. Especially for all to hear.

"Not only did you solely concur the Fade, you rescued the Circle from a fate worse than death. You did something a mage beyond your years would ever dream of achieving."

"I fear I was too late…" Dorian could not bear to look at his companions. He stared into the fire.

"Ah, I have been wondering how much the events at the tower affected you. Not many your age witness such circumstance, nor survive them."

"I… killed them." Dorian began to tremble slightly. "All of them. People I knew most of my life."

"It was a hard thing you did. But, no one blames you for it." Wynne tried to reassure. Dorian felt Leliana's soft hand against his clothed arm. He flinched at the touch, but his was mind elsewhere to truly react.

"That isn't what disturbs me…. I don't know who I killed, they were faceless. Not human. What disturbs me… is I could become… what they were." He could feel a lump grow in his throat. No matter what he faced, that day he saw a possibility of his future. The fate of mages. Wynne sighed.

"Child, I could reassure you this is not the case. I could encourage your own abilities. But no matter what I say to you, you need to believe in yourself. You need to face the fear of what you can become. But in your own time. In my opinion, you may doubt yourself, but deep down you know you are stronger than you let on…" the wise woman smiled at the young mage, hoping her words would sooth him. "And perhaps, that fear is a good thing. It will help you to remember just how easy it is to slip up."

"Anyone can fail… no one is special… If anything, I may have already failed." Dorian sighed and broke his focus on the flames. Noticing what he had done, he began to feel a knot in his stomach. He hadn't realized how many paid attention to him. The faces of his companions followed him. "Please…I-just... Excuse me…."

He rose from his seat, brushing Leliana's hand aside. Without another word, Dorian walked away from the gathering. He could hear the faint murmurs of his friends, all worrying what to say to make him feel better. Nothing could be said. None of them understood, not even Wynne.

He wasn't just a mage, not anymore. If anything, he already was an abomination. He had been warped and changed by the taint and dark and light magic. He wasn't even entirely certain he was human anymore. What if he was already corrupted beyond control?

No, he thought. There have been other Grey Warden mages, granted he was the only one to be enhanced by other forces of taint and magic, but he was not a monster. Was he?

Sighing, he sat on a patch of grass. He made sure he would be hidden from the others judgmental eyes, he wanted to be left alone. At least for a while. Crossing his legs atop one and other, he unattached his sword, but kept it close at hand. He then closed his eyes and attempted to steady his breathing.

His woolen tunic itched slightly as he attempted to meditate. Most of his cloths had become tight since his venture into the Fade. It didn't help he had a cut atop his shoulder from a nasty encounter the day before with a pack of wolves. He hadn't been able to reach it to clean himself, and he didn't want to pester Wynne. He couldn't even fully use his magic to heal it, he was trying to reserve whatever mana he had in case they were attacked again.

Grumbling he pulled the cloth over his head. Sighing as the cool air touched his naked chest. Much better, he thought. Allowing his mana to channel into his hands, he allowed his magic to cast small flames from his fingertips. He felt the heat dance along his skin, flicker and move in the night breeze. It had been some time since he was able to meditate, but this night he really needed to do so. Meditation not only helped his magic, it helped his mind calm as well.

Suddenly, he heard a stick snap close behind. Flames burning in his hands, he made a prepared stance, sword grasped. Ready to fight, his blue aura began to glow. But then, all in the same movement, he lowered himself down. A look of surprise on his face, his tainted glow dulling.

"I… I didn't mean to startle you…" Leliana slightly startled herself raised her hands up. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright…"

"That's okay…" Dorian said placing his sword down. "Sorry I startled _**you**_." He half grinned.

"I don't think your threatening nature was what startled me…" Her eyes wandered around Dorian's naked chest. "I have seen you mediate but not… I um… sorry." She was blushing, despite the lack of light Dorian could see that much.

"Oh, well, it's just…" he awkwardly fished for his tunic, it was out of arms reach. "Haven't been able to buy new clothes. And this one was irritating my wound. And-"

"Wound?" she began to approach him, no longer modest on his nakedness. "What wound?"

"It's nothing, really." He mumbled, but she continued to draw closer.

Sitting close beside him, she lifted her soft hands to his shoulder. With great care, she gently pawed at the area on his right. He winced slightly, but didn't want the touch to stop. Her cool hands on warm skin were very welcome.

"Why have you not healed it properly?" She asked looking at the slightly infected flesh.

"I have been reserving my magic… been too tired… I didn't want to waste it on myself. What if something happened and I needed to heal someone else?" he shrugged.

"Wynne is more than capable of helping others, if needed. You shouldn't burden yourself with everyone's safety all the time. She could have helped you, as well." Her tone was of annoyance and anger. Dorian seemed to shrink under her gaze.

"I… I didn't want to worry anyone… and I didn't want to have her waste her own energy on something so minor…" he whimpered like a scared child. Her gaze softened, admiration twinkled in her eyes.

"Honestly Dorian… for a man of words you lack the term 'help me'. Now, hold still." She fished from her pockets her small medical supplies. She sat, legs crossed beside the incredibly warm and awkward topless mage. He wanted nothing more than to put his shirt on at that moment.

"I don't want to be a burden…" he barely mumbled under her soft touch.

"Oh shush." She chuckled.

Sitting beside Leliana, Dorian tried to remain still as best as he could. This was no small task, her hands were incredibly nimble and soft. Bard Hands she called them, or perhaps rogue fingers. Considering she picked locks for a living, it was easy to see how she was able to be so delicate and gentle in any task.

"I didn't know you had medicinal skills." Dorian tried to distract himself from the gentle touch on his bare flesh. His mind wandered to rather ungentlemanly places. His pulse noticeably began to race.

"Only the necessities, what I needed to survive on the run." Leliana sighed, sadness in her voice at the memories.

It saddened Dorian to think of that time in her life. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her, let alone someone who loved her. He could never even bring himself to imagine putting her in danger, let alone physically hurting her. What kind of monster would do such a thing, was all he could think.

Turning himself so he could meet her eyes, he gently put his hand on hers. Her reaction was one of uncertainty. Unsure what to say to comfort his friend, he simply smiled warmly. Her eyes watered, yet she smiled back.

"I won't let anyone hurt you." He breathed. Catching himself on the last word he inwardly cursed. As per usual, Leliana had rendered his brain useless.

He could see the redness glow in her face, her eyes widened at his words. She blinked rather rapidly as her breathing hitched, Dorian was uncertain if he made her upset or not. She seemed to look away a little uneasy. No wanting to upset her further, or make her uncomfortable, he turned away to allow her to compose herself. And also made sure to release her hand.

"Maker…" she eventually said with a release of breath. "There is hope for you becoming a Bard yet. You needn't have the ability to overpower victims with seduction. Just speak in such a gentle tone and flash your smile… Why, you would have the empress of Orlais giving you the kingdom." She let out an awkward chuckled.

"I'd make a lousy king." Dorian couldn't help but nervously laugh. Rubbing his neck, but wincing as the movement pulled skin.

"Hold still, you silly." Leliana giggled. "It is amazing how much your people skills have improved."

"Good or bad thing?" he grinned cheekily.

"Hmm, that is to be decided." She returned the playful grin. "When I first met you, you barely made eye contact or spoke more than a sentence at a time. It was a while before I realized it wasn't because you disliked me, rather you were just shy. It was enduring…sweet."

"Ha, yes… shy…sweet…" Dorian blushed. "Funnily, I read many books on etiquette as a boy. Just, never truly knew how to use my knowledge."

"I'm glad you now have the chance." She smiled.

"I-um-yes…" he tried to think of something smart to say. And failed hopelessly.

"The stars are out tonight…" Leliana stated with such wonderment. Dorian stared up to them. It wasn't often as a child was he allowed to go outside at night and look up into the sky. That was why most nights he preferred to sleep by the fire.

"At least… there is still beauty to be found in this world. Despite all the despair and destruction." In truth, Dorian wasn't talking about the stars.

"It comforts me to know that the stars will remain untouched by the Blight. That whatever happens down here, they will shine eternally, their light undimmed." She began the finishing touches to mending Dorian's wound. "You know, there is a story about that cluster of stars over there." Removing her hands from her patient she pointed into a large gathering of evening lights.

"Really?" Dorian asked, eyes on Leliana's face. Of course he knew, he studied astrology in the tower and read more books than had hot meals. However, if it gave Leliana the chance to spin one of her beautiful stories, he would pretend otherwise.

"I'm guessing you don't know it then? Alindra and her soldier?" she turned, her face dangerously close to his. Both their breathing seemed to cease once they realized just how close they were. She quickly moved away with a hint of a blush. Dorian awkwardly rubbed his neck, no longer feeling pain on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid that story has alluded me, shame there isn't a Bard around to share the tale." He cheekily smirked. Leliana grinned rather devilishly. She took a seat, somewhat close to her audience. His back straightened at the close proximity.

"A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden called Alindra. She had many suitors, but spurned them all, for she did not love them." She leaned her head against Dorian's naked chest. His heart beat fast with the touch. He felt his whole body heat up with a pink glow. "One day, Alindra was sitting by her window in her father's castle, singing and dreaming, when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier."

"Ah, the plot thickens." Dorian chuckled nervously. Her hair felt so soft against his bare flesh. It tickled his skin, he felt goosebumps rise over his body. His hand itched to run fingers through her fiery locks.

"Entranced by her song, the soldier drew near to Alindra's window. As their eyes met, he fell in love with her, and she with him." She let out a sigh for effect, Dorian chuckled silently. "When Alindra told her father about the man she had chosen, he was furious, for Alindra was high born. But her love was nothing more than a common soldier."

Leliana leaned off Dorian, entrapped in her story telling. His body missed the touch instantly. He was sure he even let out a slight moan in protest.

"To keep them apart, he had Alindra imprisoned in the highest tower of his castle and sent her soldier to the wars." Leliana paused. Staring sorrowfully to the stars. Dorian watched her, his heart beating with every emotion he never understood. For once, this story spoke to him. He finally understood what each word meant.

"Alas, not a month had passed before news of the soldier's death reached Alindra." Her voice was heavy with emotion, captivating her chosen audience. Dorian couldn't help but cling to her words. "Alone in her tower, Alindra wept for her love and beseeched the gods to deliver her from this cruel world."

"Then what?" Dorian pressed as she paused once more.

"So earnest was her pleas that the gods themselves were moved. They gathered Alindra into their arms and lifted her high into the heavens, where she became a star." Leliana pointed to the stars she spoke of, Dorian stared at them. "The gods also raised up the soul of Alindra's soldier love and there he dwells, across the horizon from her. The band of stars between them is a river of Alindra's tears, cried for her lost love."

Dorian wasn't sure if he imagined it, but as Leliana spoke, he swore the stars began to twinkle. They shone brightly through the usual clouded Ferelden sky. As if speaking to him.

"They say that when Alindra has cried enough, she will be able to cross the river to be reunited with her soldier." Leliana smiled to Dorian, watching him stare at the stars in wonderment.

"I'll never look at stars the same…" he murmured. "Thank you, that was a beautiful story." He smiled to her. She smiled back.

"This story is one of my favorite, a tale of a love so great and so enduring that it defies death and moves the gods to action." She leaned closer to Dorian, his heart pounding in his throat. "Sometimes I ask myself, does such a love exist? Can it exist?" she sighed.

"I think, love is the only bit of hope we truly have in this terrible world." Dorian sighed, turning to look at the stars once more. "It may not be certain, but it's something. And not just anything, it's pure and good. Everything we should fight for. If we lose our only bit of hope… then we are truly lost."

"I never expected you to say that." Leliana was genuinely surprised. Despite Dorian's soft and gentle nature, expressing feelings on such matters was another thing. When it came down to it, often his stoic and troubled nature got the better of him. He even surprised himself by the poetic statement. "It is… a pleasant surprise."

"A surprise? I thought everyone had me written off as the mage who should have been born a fluffy animal." Dorian cast his famous crooked grin. "People tend to forget I can melt them if I chose."

"I have to admit, there is a certain severity to you. Finding a person behind that all is, nice." She teased with a playful shove. "Maybe you should let your softer side show more often. Follow your heart, not your head, it can lead you to remarkable places."

"Any place… you would be?" he blushed at his failed flirt.

"Perhaps." She giggled.

"Maybe I should show my softer side more often then." He grinned. "If the view is as nice as I expect."

_Oh Maker… could you be anymore corny? Let's just put a sign on your head that says 'I'm so lonely. LOVE ME!'_

She smiled back at him, that same warm smile that always made his heart flutter.

"Maybe… you should." She blushed.

For a moment they were both silent. Staring up into the night sky. Dorian couldn't help but feel happy. He had long forgotten his lack of a shirt, and gone past even caring. The cold didn't affect him, and it was nothing Leliana hadn't seen before. He trusted her, more than anyone in his entire life.

"Leliana…" he finally said. "I was… just wondering something…" he felt his throat close in.

"Yes?" She smiled.

"Is there…" he chocked slightly. "What I mean is um… What is your thoughts on mages?"

_Mages? What in the name of Andraste's flaming death are you doing?_

_I… Haven't a clue._

"What do you mean?" she raised her eyebrow.

"As in… do you think they should, be like anyone else? Get married, have kids… fall in love?" he was trying to bring logic and a connection to his question.

"Oh." She seemed a little confused. "I can't see why they shouldn't be allowed such rights." She shrugged.

"I-um… yes… I think so as well." He nodded. "So, if a mage… say, fell in love with someone… who wasn't a mage… do you think that's okay?" he rubbed his neck. "That the mage shouldn't be afraid to be with her… I mean, with whomever he loved?"

"I can't see why not." She smiled. "Love shouldn't have boundaries."

"That's good." He let out a sigh of relief.

"Of course, there are dangers of being with a mage… is there not?" she asked calmly.

"D-dangers?" he stuttered.

"Well, I for one don't believe in such beliefs… But, the Chantry says mages are forbidden to have relations…. For generic reasons."

"Ah… dangers." Dorian realized what she meant. "As in we shouldn't breed in case our children carry the magic gene."

"Yes… it's a barbaric view I think. As I have said, magic is not a curse." She smiled.

"Yeah…" Dorian sighed. He neglected to mention children wouldn't be a problem for him anyway.

"There are rumors of other dangers as well." Leliana was slightly smirking now.

"What kind?" Dorian asked with a frown.

"That mages are slightly… untamed…" she giggled.

"Un…tamed?" Dorian raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"They tend to lose control of themselves during intimate…moments. I have never been with a mage, so I would not know if such a rumor is true or not." She blushed violently.

"I-you-um-yes…" Dorian spluttered. "I would not know about that…" his whole body radiated with heat.

"But, there are rumors for Warden's being similar… if not more wild… Anyway, we seem to have gotten drastically off topic." Leliana nervously chuckled.

"Yes… slightly…" Dorian fidgeted.

"Why do you ask?" she smiled to him, curious. "Why do you ask what I think on mage relationships?"

"I-um…" he stumbled.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _

"Any reason in particular you wanted to know my views?" She pressed, leaning slightly closer.

"I-Um… No, no reason… Just, being curious. You know me, always with the awkward questions." He awkwardly chuckled. "Would you look at the time, I should probably go try and get some rest…"

He quickly grabbed his shirt and got up to leave. Leliana stared at him, slightly startled by his nervous outburst. He practically fell over trying to pull his shirt over his head. Walking off, he realized he forgot his sword. So he rushed back to where the confused bard stat wild-eyed.

"Uh…thank you… for fixing my wound…Good, um, night." He mumbled incoherently. Then almost ran back to camp.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

He physically slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. As he headed to his bedroll, he contemplated how long it would take to burrow to the center of the earth. Even still, the hole wouldn't be big enough to disappear into. He wanted to vanish violently from the face of Thedas.

"So, how did it go?" Alistair chimed pleasantly.

"Shut. Up." Dorian grumbled, climbing under his blanket. He hid his face from the world.

_There is always tomorrow._

_Or never? Never is good… _


	18. A Dance With Death

_Chapter Eighteen: A Dance With Death_

Dorian continued to scrunch yet another piece of parchment up and violently through it in the direction of the still burning embers. Each piece would delicately ignite and burn out slowly. How befitting, just like the mages spark of inspiration. The usually verbose man was more than struggling to articulate a sentence.

The early morning sunlight danced over the trees, a truly beautiful sight. Poets and bards of the like would have marveled on the view and wrote amazing sonnets depicting what they saw. How Dorian loathed those talented people. Loathed, detested… and was incredibly jealous of.

_Maker, they make it seem so Blighted easy!_

He grumbled and groaned, another page torn in disgust and anguish. Why was this so hard?

"Morning." Yawned Alistair and he rose from his tent. Dorian grumbled a reply. "Is there a reason for the early morning rage session?"

"I'm not angry." Another page suffered the mages wrath.

"Well… if that's happy, I'm an Orlesian courtesan." The Warden chuckled, taking a seat on the log beside the mage.

"What you do in your personal time is none of my concern." Dorian replied with a snort. He moved his pack closer to his body to give Alistair more room to sit.

"Seriously, what's with the page massacres? What kind of potion are you working on that would have you in such a huff. You normally aren't this grumpy until after breakfast."

"Its… it's none of your business." Dorian grumbled turning the book away from his friends prying eyes.

"Aw, don't be like that. Maybe I can help?" Alistair smiled. Dorian let out a heavy sigh, then thrust the book into Alistair's large hands. The blonde man fumbled the book and attempted to read the violent scribbles over the page.

"Well?" Dorian eventually huffed.

"You have very neat handwriting. Well…neater than mine."

"That's not what I meant!"

"Well… what do you want me to say? I like it, it's simple. I'm not sure why you are getting so worked up over it." Alistair handed the book back once he finished the last sentence. "Heartfelt, genuine, very sweet."

"That's not what I'm going for. I want it to be… I dunno…" the mage slumped into himself, desperately clinging the book.

"Does this mean your talk with Leliana didn't go so well? So you are trying to make things right with… a poem?" Alistair nervously rubbed his forehead.

"It's supposed to be a song. But I don't know how to write music…"

"You just avoided my question." Alistair slightly laughed.

"No. It did not go so well. And no, this is not to make things 'right'. It's just... a token of my affection." Dorian sighed as he turned to look at Leliana's tent. He wondered if she was sleeping well.

"What did you say?" Alistair asked crossing his arms. "Can't have been that bad."

"I asked what her views on mage relations was…" Dorian blushed.

"An… interesting topic choice." The large man tried hard not to laugh.

"It's not funny…" Dorian huffed in annoyance.

Alistair seemed to have been trying to think of a logical response. Nothing came to mind. Luckily, Wynne had awoken, sparing Alistair and Dorian further discussion.

"Morning Warden's." She smiled. "Sleep well?"

"The usual." Dorian chuckled and rubbed his tired eyes.

"You should really consider taking sleeping drafts. A small dosage would be enough to give you a good night's rest." Wynne said with a stretch.

"That wouldn't be wise." Dorian sighed. "I may not be awoken very easily. What if we were ambushed?"

"A diluted solution would only be enough to give you a normal amount of unconsciousness. Nothing like being comatose. I sometimes add some to my tea to help me get a full amount of rest, I find it hard to stay asleep most nights without it. At least consider it, you look rather dreadful. The sleep under your eyes has yet to be lifted."

"Yes… mother…" Dorian murmured.

Slowly the camp started to come to life. One by one each member slowly rose and began packing their areas up. Zevran whistled as he handed each member some breakfast, the elf was always so cheery in the mornings. Dorian wished he had his enthusiasm. Morrigan was one of the first to be ready to leave, as usual. The witch aimlessly paced back and forth from the fire pit, deep in contemplation.

"Morrigan." Dorian quietly called. He hated to disturb her thoughts, but wanted to speak with her before he forgot to do so.

"Yes, what is it?" she calmly said turning to him.

"I have something for you." He pulled the black tome from his pack. "I'm not certain but I think it might be-"

"What? You found Flemeth's Grimoire?" her eyes grew large with shock and desire. She rushed over to Dorian and hungrily snatched the book from his hands.

"So, it is what you were looking for?" he asked. She simply nodded a reply, eyes studying the leather bound.

"When I spoke of it to you, I did not truly hope… this is a most fortuitous event!" she stared at the book with what appeared to Dorian as greed, a hunger for knowledge. "I will begin study of the tome immediately!"

"What do you hope to find in it?" he asked with a small smile, happy it was the right book.

Morrigan's eyes lit up, like what she held in her hands was the meaning to all existence. She began affectionately stroking the leather on the books cover. As if she held a beloved pet in her hands.

"Secrets…. My mother has many of them. This tome represents the one time they were able to get away from her. I do not intend to squander this opportunity to learn more than Flemeth wished me to know." Her eyes narrowed. "This should be… interesting…"

"Well, I'm glad it is the right book." He smiled. "I hope it is at least useful to you."

"Yes, thank you. You have done a wondrous thing." She purred. "But excuse me, I must begin reading at once."

"Not to worry, I know more than most the value of a good book." He laughed slightly.

He was very happy the two of them no longer avoided eye contact. He hoped they could go back to being friends, the uncomfortable distance was getting difficult. Dorian enjoyed speaking with Morrigan, spending time apart was becoming daunting. Even if he wasn't what Morrigan wanted, he still cared about her. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a strong connection with the Witch of the Wilds.

"Yes, indeed. We shall talk more later. Thank you again." She continued to stroke the book as she walked away from the camp.

Dorian chuckled slightly and returned to his writing. The others busily packed their tents, so it gave him a moment more to focus on the pages of incoherent writing. Neat indeed, he grumbled as he looked to the scrawled markings he called 'words'. He really wanted to make something spectacular, something to fully express what he was feeling. A way to show just how deeply he cared… for her.

Considering whenever he spoke, his mouth made a mockery of everything. He silently cursed his failed brain, why couldn't he just be normal.

"Good morning." A pleasantly sweet accent sang in front of the focused mage. "What are you working on?"

"I-oh-nothing important." He quickly slammed his journal shut.

"Did you sleep well _mon ami_?" she smiled and leaned dangerously close to his face. He looked up, from the angle she leaned he got a perfectly good view down her…

"Yes-I mean, kinda… you?" he blushed trying to look away.

_Maker, does she have any idea how insane she drives me… _

_Why would she? I haven't exactly given her reason to think I lov-like her. Not that she would care… I mean, look at me… then look at her…_

"Can't complain." She smiled, taking a seat beside him. "My bedroll is somewhat comfortable, but I do miss sleeping in a real bed sometimes. I tend to get cold at night."

"I can give you my blanket, if you like." He turned to her, a rather goofily hopeful look on his face. "It's fur lined. I bought it from Redcliffe, really soft. That should keep you warm."

"I-But-yours?" Leliana was a little stunned by his over enthusiastic ways. "But, won't you be cold then?"

"Bah, I don't normally feel the cold. Human furnace, remember." He chuckled. "Please, I would rather you were comfortable."

"I-no… that's alright, I'm just being dramatic." She blushed. "It isn't really that bad."

"Oh okay…" he looked down, hope broken. "Well, if there is any other way I can keep you warm… just let me know." He smiled innocently.

"S-sorry?" she stuttered, blush reddening on her cheeks.

"I said, if you know any other way I can help, just let me know. I can get you a thicker tent, or find more blankets, perhaps warmer clothes?" Dorian looked to her rather confused.

"Oh, yes… sorry, my mind was elsewhere." She looked away from his face.

"That's okay _mon ami_." He smiled.

"My mind tends to go to rather… colorful places, if I'm not too careful." She giggled.

"I see." Dorian nervously chuckled. "My mind wanders often as well."

"Anywhere… nice?" she smirked.

"Uhh…" he blushed, remembering the previous view he had of Leliana. How difficult it was not to think more on it. "Yes. I mean-no-sometimes…maybe?"

"You are awfully jittery this morning." Leliana frowned. "Have I done something to bother you?"

"No!" he jumped, causing Leliana to be startled. "I just… unwell…" he faked a cough.

"_Unwell"? Coughing? Dorian, I do hope you know how much of a dolt you can be. _

"Nothing serious I hope." She leaned close to him, placing a palm on his forehead. The cool hand caused his pulse to race. He could feel his mouth dry up and sweat bead his brow. If he wasn't nervous before, he certainly was now.

"My, you are a little clammy this morning." Leliana observed with widened eyes. "You are sweating a bit as well. Perhaps we should take a day of rest? I'll get Wynne to take a look at you."

"No, no I am alright. I'm just… sleep deprived. Just going to take some Lyrium, I'll be right as rain…." He neglected the fact their close contact was what was causing his sudden health decline.

"Well, if you are sure." She smiled, sitting back once more. Dorian unintentionally stared desirably at the hand she removed from his face. How his skin missed its touch.

_What is wrong with me!?_

After an awkwardly long moment of staring at her hands, Dorian forced his eyes to look away. He could have sworn he heard a chuckle from Leliana. Must have been his imagination though. They both watched as Alistair attempted to help Wynne take down her tent. The large man stumbled over ropes and seemed to be blushing. Wynne meanwhile, had a large smirk on her lips. It was a well-known fact about the party that the elder mage took great pleasure in embarrassing the senior Warden. Dorian often thought the two shared a mother-son relationship, not that he would know what that looked like.

"I wonder what they are talking about." Leliana chuckled. "She seems to have him a bit muddled."

Dorian nodded. He was silently plotting his next move. Despite scoffing Alistair's 'tactical approach' advice, right then it seemed the only solution. He needed to be strategic. Like a game of chess, Dorian thought.

_This isn't chess. And if it was, you would be losing…by the way._

_Will you leave me alone if you have nothing helpful to offer!_

_Just pointing out the obvious…_

"Uh… so, Leliana…" he awkwardly spoke.

"Hmm?" she smiled turning to him. Maker, that smile.

"It's… lovely weather… today…" he fumbled out.

_Weather! The weather! Could you be any more stupid? Hopeless? No, don't answer that…_

"Yes, it is quite pleasant today." She chirped. "Though, we should be due for more rain, I'd presume. We should enjoy the warmth while we can."

"Why's that?" he awkwardly continued his ridiculous conversation topic.

"We are reaching winter." She grinned. "Oh, that means Feast Day is fast approaching as well… Oh!"

"What, what is it?" the mage panicked.

"We will be spending the holiday together." She grinned, causing Dorian to blush. "Have you celebrated the day before?"

"Uh, yes…. We did celebrate it in the Tower. Although, it isn't very special. Just another day, really." He shrugged. "The children get a few gifts, we get to have extra free time and the end of the day have a nice meal for dinner and extra pudding. A few years ago Gregoir tried to cancel it, he said it wasn't good to spoil mages. Irving wouldn't allow it. Senior Enchanter believed we deserved at least one day a year to feel special."

"Well, perhaps this year… it will be something to remember." She smiled coyly. Dorian wondered what she was planning.

Well, back to planning his next move. He inwardly groaned at the chess analogy. If this was a game, he was indeed losing. And losing by his own stupid skills. He was making a mess of everything, making this awkward and strange between them. He knew it, he knew she thought he was an idiot. He desperately wanted to go back to the way things were, just friends. There was no chance of that though, not with how desperately he cared about her.

Now, everything was so confusing. His palms felt cold and clammy, he fiddled with them nervously. He felt cold and sweaty. This was unusual for him, he never got ill. Maybe he was getting sick, sick with nerves.

"Um… Leliana?" he swallowed. "About last night…"

"What about last night?" She turned with a smile.

"What I was saying… what I was trying to say was…" he spluttered.

_For the love of Maker, just say it! Say something at least!_

"Are… you sure you're alright?" Leliana asked with concern. "You seem to be shaking."

"I'm alright, yes… What I was trying to ask you last night was… That I wanted to ask you…" he fumbled with his hands. "How do you… define… love?" he finally spluttered out.

"I'm… not sure I understand the question." She asked, slightly uncomfortable.

"What I mean is, what would someone have to do to fall in love?" he rubbed his neck, feeling increasingly ill.

"I am… not sure… why do you ask?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Just curious…" he chuckled. His throat dried and he felt raspy in the chest. He was sure any moment he would have fainted.

_Please don't. Maker I prey, do __**not**__ faint._

"Well… You can't make someone fall in love with you. It is just supposed to happen… naturally." She smiled. "A spark, something two people share. It… is hard to explain."

"Does it feel like… magic?" he asked nervously. "Like… you would do anything in the world… just to see them smile?"

"I-I suppose so." Leliana blushed.

"And you would do anything to keep them safe, to make them happy?" Dorian scratched his head. "They are more important to you… than anything in the world?"

"Yes, I would dear say you sum it up nicely." She smiled. "I must ask, why do you wish to know all this… is there… someone you-"

"Oh, I'd better go help Alistair... Wynne seems to have him in a bit of a state." Dorian jumped up, clinging to his pack for dear life. "Thank you-for the talk…bye."

_Maker! I did it again! What is wrong with me?_

Dorian quickly walked away from the confused bard. His entire body shook with nerves and anger. He wished with every breath in his body he was normal. To be like any other man. To tell the woman he cared about he loved them, to be married and to live happily ever after. To not be a mage, to not be a Warden… and to not be such a damn fool.

_To be what Leliana deserves… not some blathering idiot…_

_She deserves a prince… and by the Maker… that isn't me…_

…

With each step the travelers drew nearer to the city of Denerim. Many days had passed since their venture north had begun, and each companion ached for a decent rest. They grew tired and antsy with the constant quiet and somewhat 'boring' routine the travelers had come to develop. Nothing out of the ordinary had befallen the adventurers for a while.

_How very odd… the calm before a storm perhaps? _

_Bah, just boredom talking through paranoia. _

Even the normally unfazed Sten grew tiresome from the constant walking. His normally harsh nature had become slightly more patient as of late. Dorian assumed it was his reuniting with his beloved sword, 'Ashala'. Instead of being grumpy and distant, the Qunari often chose to sit by the fire with his companions. He seemed to have grown rather fond of the other travelers. Unless Dorian was simply imagining these ideas, which seemed more rational.

The mage hate to admit it, but even he was getting sick of the constant walking. Normally something exciting would happen; bandits, darkspawn, even a random band of rabid Mabari would have at least added some form of activity. Something to remind everyone to remain prepared. Now they all seemed too sluggish to care. Boredom, often lead to wandering minds.

"Coin for your thought, _mon ami_?" Leliana bounced to her friend's side.

_I can always count on Leliana to be pleasant. I doubt there is much that would ruin her bubbly mood._

"I don't think you'd get your money's worth." He chuckled.

"Something seemed to be on your mind." She jabbed his ribs playfully with a finger. "Not that you don't always look so deep in thought. Such a brooder."

"I do not brood. I prefer 'contemplate'." He smiled.

"Well, what were we contemplating then." She grinned.

"Nothing special." He smirked.

"Regardless, I am curious as to what it was." She returned the smirk. The two were both determined to win the mind game they had started.

"I bet you are." He teased.

"Continue to avoid the answer, but I will keep hounding you." She chuckled. "A bard always gets her answer, you know."

"Oh ho. I hope that was not a threat, madam." Dorian raised his eyebrow.

"I do not threat. I prefer 'persuasion'." She winked.

"Touché." He chuckled. "Alright, the lady wins this round. I was just thinking how quiet our journey has been for a while. Normally something of worth would occur. It's all a little…boring."

"You're hoping dragons will fall from the sky?" the bard pulled a face of mock horror. "Perhaps spider's springing from the earth? That would be exciting, no?"

"Oh very funny." Dorian childishly poked a tongue out. "I was just wondering why it has been so quiet."

"Well, with a bit of luck something adventurous will happen soon. We might get attacked by a band of travelling Qunari fishwives." Leliana teased.

"Oh the madness!" Dorian clung to his heart theatrically.

"Qunari Fishwives… with an angry disposition and a taste for the colour pink." The bard pulled a face of fear.

"How will I ever sleep, with that horrifying image in my mind?" Dorian chuckled.

"Perhaps… we should begin sleeping in pairs…" Leliana purred with a smirk. "Just to be safe."

"Sleep in…what?" Dorian's eyes widened. Leliana chuckled as she walked off. A noticeable spring to her step.

Dorian sighed and stared after her. He smiled, thinking just how easily it was too loose himself around Leliana. How easily she made his troubles vanish. She could enchant him with words, music, and just a mere smile. He was beyond smitten.

A troubling thought came to his mind. What would become of the group once the Blight ended? Would they stay together? Well, obviously not all of them.

Sten was with his blade, he was free to return home once the Blight ended. Morrigan, though Dorian knew nothing of her plans, he assumed she would never consider staying with him. Despite his hopes the two were friends, he knew given the chance she would go elsewhere. Her destiny was not by his side. Wynne would no doubt return to the Circle, and probably try and drag Dorian back as well.

_Ha! Good luck with that. _

He looked down to his side at the bouncy hound, who happily wagged his tail. He knew his loyal Mabari would stay with him. Spirit and Dorian shared a bond, something the mage could not even explain. They felt connected.

Shale did as she pleased. He would not expect her to stay with him, but would be more than happy if she chose to on her own accord. But no doubt she would wish to explore her new freedom. It would sadden him to see his stone friend leave. Though the others were often off put by her, Dorian respected her more than most.

Zevran had no immediate plans, but had mentioned traveling the world. Perhaps, he would stay with Dorian. The two had become the best of friends. Despite the constant teasing of his 'innocence'. There was Alistair, the man had no certain future, so he could not be counted on. On one hand, he could become king. On the other… he would rather not become king. There was no way to determine what would happen to the Warden once this was over.

Then… there was Leliana…

"Everything alright?" the elder mage asked as she approached the slow walking man.

"I-yes, just deep in thought." He looked to her.

"You had this rather concerned look on your face. Something is troubling you, is it not?"

_Why is everyone asking what is on my mind today?_

_Must have an interestingly readable face. _

"Just… worried." He shrugged. "About what the future holds."

"That is a usual trait with you, I presume. To worry about the uncertain." The elder smiled.

"I have been known to worry, yes." He chuckled. "I do hope that is not the only thing you have noticed about me our time together."

"No, you have many other qualities I have noticed. One, being rather sarcastic." She raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, but only to those whom I approve of." Dorian cheekily grinned. "You are not welcome with me unless I make a rather comical remark towards you at some point."

"Does that mean I have passed the buck? Considering you seem to allude my serious questions with humor."

Dorian shrugged with a coy laugh. The senior mage made a small chuckle, then coughed rather nastily.

"Everything alright?" Dorian asked with great concern.

Despite the fact Wynne had only traveled with them a small amount of time, Dorian had come to care for her. He had written her off at the start as being the rather judgmental school mistress, but her concern for others wellbeing was something worthy of admiration. She was proving to be a trusted ally, especially with her magical skills. In battle her first concern was always the safety of her comrades, offering protection and healing spells to any fallen allies. She even offered regularly to cook, stating everyone needed proper meals for their strength. She had become the 'mother' of the group.

"Just… feeling my age upon me." She eventually replied. "It's been a long few days."

"We can stop for a rest, if you need it. I think the others would appreciate a break as well." Dorian looked to see his other companions drudging along. He couldn't help but shake his head at the hopeless sight. How the mighty and proud had fallen, he thought.

"Oh no, I am fine…" she seemed to slow down her pace.

"Wynne, are you sure you're alright-" Dorian was cut off as an arrow whizzed past his head.

"Ambush!" Alistair sounded as he drew his blades.

Suddenly, arrows flew past them and the sound of stomping feet and clanking metal echoed through the trees. Before the group had a moment to prepare, they were surrounded by armored attackers. Dorian had to laugh.

_Good things come to those who complain. _

Even without time to ready themselves, the group was more than eager to fight. It seemed this was just what they all needed; that bit of excitement. Alistair and Sten took on the larger members of the attackers, and Shale lifted a large fallen tree and began clubbing several men at a time. It was a rather humorous site, watching the armored men and women fly violently back with surprise as the wood collided with them.

Zevran kept stragglers away from Bodan and Sandal's caravan, with the help of Morrigan. The witch, to the terrified surprise of the attackers, took spider form and ripped apart any who dared come her way. Wynne kept her distance and made sure to aid any of her comrades who needed it.

Dorian was in full form with his attacks. Many attempted to kill him first, considering how small and apparently weak he appeared. How foolish they were, he slaughtered any who came close with both magic and swordplay. Any that slipped past his immediate notice where mauled by his trusted Mabari.

His blue blade hummed as it was swung, the sunlight danced of its glowing markings. It was a magnificent sight, one Dorian hadn't the time to admire. It wasn't long before his shining armor became reddened as victory fast approached.

"Dorian!" Wynne shouted through pained breath. "Leliana!"

With that word, the mage snapped out of his state of euphoria. Slaying the last of his personal onslaught, he looked around the battlefield to find his trusted archer. Why hadn't he noticed her? He looked desperately for her red hair to be dancing about as she thwarted her attackers with arrows and dancelike dagger skills.

She wasn't by the others, not like her. Leliana was always one to cover her friends. His heart raced as his eyes quickly scanned the battlefield. Where was his archer, where was Leliana?

He found her. But it wasn't a moment of rejoice, rather dread overwhelmed his being.

She was surrounded by too many to count. Blades swung about violently as they attempted to collide with the quick movements of the sly bard. None were fast enough to touch the rouge. But still, their attention did not falter. They wanted her dead.

Snarling with both hate and panic, Dorian swung his staff from his back. With a channel of his magic, a large flame shot from both his hands and his staff towards the attackers. Burning them to a crisp. Many fell in screams loud enough to burst eardrums, flesh bubbling under their shiny armor.

Dorian ran towards her. He had to help, he had to cover her. Just as she did for everyone else. As skillful as he knew she was, he didn't want to give any of the survivors a chance to strike.

Leliana seemed to smirk as he grew closer. Drawing both sword and staff, Dorian helped to cover his Orlesian friend in battle. The clanking of blades sounded the air as both mage and bard fought back to back. Protecting one and other. They fought like demons, unstoppable by all. Both maneuvered around the other, covering from all angles. They danced gracefully as one during the fight. The Blighted fools never knew what hit them.

"Still bored?" Leliana laughed as she struck down another attacker.

"Remind me never to complain about peace and quiet again." Dorian returned the laughter.

The two continued to defeat the armed men and women. Leliana drew her bow and shot down the last of the archers who stood offside. None of them saw the flamed arrows come their way. As usual, the bard never missed her mark. And with that final arrow, the last of them fell. Dorian turned to face his friend.

"Bah, still kind of boring. Armored ambush? Please, that has been done." He laughed. "Qunari Fishwives might have made a change."

"Oh I don't know, that wasn't so bad-"

_**Thump.**_

The worst sound to ever ring in the mages ears. Their eyes met, her hand drifted up to her chest, gripping the arrow. Dorian froze, mind unable to understand what was happening.

Her eyes grew wide with realization. Blood began pouring from the wound the arrow in her chest caused.

"Dorian…" she breathed as he reached out to grab her.

_**Thump.**_

Her legs collapsed as he grabbed her desperately. Her body began to twitch and writhe with a terrifying force. Eyes rolled to the back of her head. Disturbingly sinister veins began growing across her once rosy cheeks.

"No, no… please… Leliana!" Dorian lifted his hands to the arrow. He did the only thing he knew, he casted all his magic to keep her alive. "Please, no… Maker no!"

Silence. It was almost as painful to hear. He desperately wanted the air to fill once more with her laughter, her voice, her music. Anything. All he could hear as he pressed firmly to the wound was her batted breathing with each spasm.

"Wynne!" he shouted with agony. "Get here, I need you!"

The mage was by his side within seconds. She steadied herself and knelt beside the fallen rogue. She reached for the arrow.

"I have to remove it, keep channeling magic to the wound. Do not stop. Once it is pulled I need you to put all your mana into her heart. Do you understand?" the senior mage readied herself.

"Yes. Just please, save her." He felt the sting of tears as he looked down to her fluttering eyes.

"Now!" with a forceful tug the arrow was ripped from the bards limp body. Blood spurted as the barb left flesh. Dorian, with the will no mage could ever muster, pushed all his power onto that slowly beating heart.

_You will not die. I forbid it._

He could barely see her face, his eyes were clouded with a blue haze. A power he never knew he possessed took hold of his body. With all his strength and magic, he willed the heart to beat. He did so, until he could do no more.

"I can take it from here." Wynne calmly patted the man's shoulder. "She will be alright."

Removing his hands from the wound and allowing Wynne to continue to work, Dorian slumped backwards and breathed heavily. But not for long.

He heard the faint sounds of barking and snapping. It was Spirit, he had chased down the assailant.

Dorian's head snapped from the painful sight of his fallen bard, eyes searching for his victim. A fury he never knew existed violently shook his body. There, running from the snapping Mabari, was the attacker.

Once his eyes landed on the man, he leapt with an energy he did not have and charged in the direction his dog ran. He passed his friends, all stunned by what had taken place. Dorian heard nothing they said, the only thing he noticed was his target. He charged with such force no ogre could compare. The mages body and mind consumed with one thought; blood lust.

He quickly closed the gap between his blade and the archers back. Knocking the coward to the ground. Dorian attacked with a fiery hate, his body overpowered with his tainted magic. He once again saw through a blue haze as he lost possession of his being. Again and again his sword penetrated the fallen man's spine. Again and again the mage mercilessly attacked. Each strike with more fury then the last.

The archer gurgled and spat blood against his blow. Body lurching against each attack, trembling with the twist of his sword. Finally, the man's body went limp against the bloodied sword. But it wasn't enough, Dorian's anger and hate was not fulfilled. He continued to relentlessly stab the man who shot the arrow; the man who attacked Leliana.

"Dorian, he is dead!" Alistair yelled as he attempted to pull the enraged mage off the man.

Dorian couldn't hear him. He struggled against the Warden's grabs, he wasn't finished. Not yet. He didn't feel anything, only hate. That sight, Leliana bleeding, the gasp of pain. All of it, would forever be burned in his mind. He failed her. He didn't stop the arrow. But he would stop the attacker.

"Dorian, stop! She needs you!"

The words snapped him from his state. The blue aura left his body, the glow feeling as if it was never there. The hate vanished, over run by fear. He looked down to see the aftermath of his attack. So much blood. He left his blood soaked sword and ran back to the fallen Leliana. Alistair retrieved it for his friend and stared after him, worry and pain in his eyes.

"She is alright." Wynne said as she continued her magic. "Just very weak."

Leliana laid sprawled on the earth, blood stained her beautiful face. She was so pale, barely breathing. Dorian collapsed beside her. He looked down on her fluttering eyelashes. He failed her. Zevran stood close by, examining the arrow pulled from her body.

"Deathroot laced. Very strong, and very potent. Designed to kill, and kill slowly." The elf spoke matter of factly. "Assassin make."

"Friends of yours?" Alistair growled. He too was concerned for his friend's safety. "Or friends of Loghain's?"

"Neither. The assassin armor is not of Antivan make, so it isn't the crows. I'd dear say from the crest it's Orlesian." Zevran shook his head. "That pretty much rules Teryn Loghain out of the picture. He is the poster boy for anti-Orlais, no?"

"Then who could have sent such an army for an attack?" Alistair shook his head. "This doesn't make any sense."

"I'm not sure. But whoever it was, has a lot of money to spend." Zevran shook his head. "They certainly paid for an army."

"It doesn't matter." Dorian finally snapped. "We need to get Leliana somewhere safe."

He attempted to gently lift the redhead from her earthen bed. She was limp, lifeless. But still, a faint breath escaped her lungs. It lifted his heart, she still had life in her. She was still fighting. Wynne rose with him, continuing her spell.

"Are you sure you should be carrying her?" she asked with a concerned look. "You just lost a lot of energy."

"I am not of concern." He frowned as he looked down on her pale face. "She needs to be taken care of. I-I will do so…"

Wynne nodded and followed the visibly trembling mage. Her face hardened as she studied the man's worried stare. His eyes watered as he carried his fallen friend. His fallen love.

_I failed you…Maker forgive me…_

_..._

Leliana gingerly began to awaken. How her body ached as it grew conscious. She felt something soft and warm wrapped snuggly around her presumably naked body. Fur, she thought.

_Where am I?_

Unable to fully open her eyes, the bard attempted to remember what happened. She recalled a battle, a battle that was easily won. Now, she was laying in her bedroll, and it felt as if she had been stripped bare. How peculiar, she thought.

Groaning slightly, she opened her eyes and attempted to get up. Not a chance, both her chest ached from the slightest movement, and something held her firmly but gently down.

"Shh, it's alright." A comforting voice soothed to her side.

Turning her head up she was able to take in the sight of her capture. A warm smile and tingly sensation spread through her body. Gladly, she would remain this man's prisoner.

"Dorian?" she breathed in a raspy tone.

"Yeah, it's me." He let out a pained chuckle.

She wondered why he seemed so sad. His usual cocky smile was nowhere to be seen, and his bright blue eyes were dulled. They even appeared red. Had he been crying? What had caused him such pain?

"Where… where am I?" was all Leliana could manage.

"Camp." Dorian stated. "How much do you recall?"

"The fight… it ended, I thought… I don't really know…" Leliana rubbed her head as nothing came to her.

"An archer slipped past undetected. While we were talking… he shot you. The arrow had been poisoned." Dorian's hands placed firmly on Leliana's shoulder tensed as the image ran through his mind.

"What happened then?" she asked with curiosity.

"I… I used my strongest healing spell… but it wasn't enough. Wynne had to take over. Using both herbs and magic the poison was stopped. Instead of…" he paused with a pained expression. "You only slipped into a comma." His jaw twitched with each word.

"How long was I out?" she rubbed her eyes.

"A few days. You drifted in and out of consciousness here and there… mumbled a few incoherent things."

"Nothing embarrassing I hope." She chuckled lightly.

"No. I'm glad you seem to be awake now." He refused to look into her eyes.

"I-I am sorry…" she turned her head away from his view.

"You-what?" Dorian snapped his eyes to her. "For what?"

"For making you wait. I know everyone has been tired of the journey… and now they had to wait even longer…" she felt ashamed, she was the reason he was upset. She made them wait longer. Another thing to burden him with.

Dorian began to laugh slightly. Though the sound was music to her ears, she was not in the mood to be laughed at. The situation was not at all amusing.

"Something funny?" she snapped.

"Just you…" he struggled to remain serious. "Only someone so selfless would worry on others while they lay comatose in a makeshift clinic. You truly are an amazing person…"

"I-Oh…" she blushed.

"And besides… it is not you who they should be blaming." He breathed heavily. His serious nature retuned once more.

Leliana, curious to inspect her healer's handy work lifted the fluffy blanket from her body and spied the bandage tightly wound around her breasts. As she had expected, she was dressed only in her panties. Heat spread to her ears. Had he been the one to undress her? Not that she minded but…

"Wynne did most of the… hands on work." Dorian murmured with a smile in his voice.

"She-she did?" Leliana said, disappointment accidentally in her tone.

"Uh… yes. I thought it would be more… appropriate. She wasn't very impressed by my modesty, said I was being very… unprofessional. But… I didn't think it would be… um." He blushed.

"I see." She tried to hide the smile growing wider by the second.

"I told her my… Err… hands on medicinal skills were beyond useless. I would only be helpful using magic, and by the time I carried you here I was drained…"

"Wait… you carried me?"

"Erm… yes? S-sorry…" he fumbled with his hands. Blush intensifying.

Oh Maker, how she loved that particular shade of red on his cheeks. His face softened with embarrassment. She preferred this side of him, the sweet side. Still, she wanted to know what pained him so. But seeing him somewhat lighten up was making her happy. She didn't want to cause him more pain by bringing his mood down. Another time, she thought.

"How… how long have you been waiting by my side?" she asked with a small smile.

"Uh… a while." He mumbled.

_Maker, why must he be so coy. _

"You haven't left, have you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Not even to sleep."

"Uh…" his stumble all but answered her question.

Slowly and gingerly she raised herself up to his level. He attempted to protest, but she gently brushed his hands aside. His eyes darted away at the sight of the tight cloth clinging to her figure.

_He is so adorable. I absolutely adore him._

Sitting only centimeters apart she stared into his blue eyes. They began to twinkle once more, perhaps from his mood change or perhaps contrasting against his pink cheeks. Lifting her sleepy hand up to his cheek, she pulled his face to look at hers. She smiled.

"Thank you." She said sweetly.

"I didn't do, uh-" before he had a chance to protest further Leliana gently pecked his red cheek. The kiss stunned him to the spot.

"I'm glad to see the Dorian I adore has returned." She winked.

"Uh…" his mouth seemed to open and close. Leliana couldn't help but think he looked like a freshly caught fish.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased.

"I… no… You should rest." He jumped up, startling Leliana with his sudden movement. "I'll go inform Wynne you are awake. She will need to check and make sure the poison has left your body completely."

_So business like… I guess serious Dorian doesn't want us to have some fun…_

"Okay." She sighed, laying back down.

"Please… take it easy…" he said as he headed towards the tent door.

"Oh, Dorian." Leliana called before her personal healer had a chance to leave.

"Yeah?" he turned on his heels, still a little flustered. Leliana couldn't help be giggle at the sight.

"Thank you for the blanket. It is very… comfortable…" she purred.

"Oh… you… welcome…"

With that, he was gone. She could hear the stumbling of his flustered footsteps. She giggled violently at the sounds, then winced as the pain seized in her chest. She still felt a little woozy, in fact that sickening feeling seemed to grow now she was on her own.

_Perhaps I didn't notice it because of my… distraction._

Another giggle, and another tinge of pain. She hoped he would visit again soon, no matter what he brightened any mood with those bright eyes and sweet smile.

Leliana snuggled into his blanket. Oh it smelt so heavenly. Just like him, earthy with a hint of mint. She inhaled the aroma, it was so intoxicating. A smile spread to the corners of her mouth. He had stayed with her, he had carried her, and he saved her. He did care. Well, obviously.

That much had become very clear, what with his failed attempts to express his feelings. She snickered devilishly. Of course she knew what he was trying to do, she didn't want to interrupt him though. She wanted to see if he would be able to admit his feelings on his own. Well, that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

_Looks like it's up to you, Leliana. Time to help our adorable little mage out, I believe._

_With pleasure. _

She snuggled further into the blanket, trying to think of a good way to approach the topic with him.

"Leliana? Are you still awake?" Wynne's motherly tone echoed through the tent walls.

"Yeah." Leliana sighed, mind still elsewhere.

"May I come in?"

"Sure." Another sigh.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" the senior mage asked as she stepped through the flap.

"Rested, relaxed…" Leliana blushed, she clung hungrily to the furred blanket.

"So I see." The mage raised her eyebrow. "Sorry to disturb you, but it have to check your wound."

"Of course." Leliana gingerly rose from her snuggled position. She groaned with the movement.

"Take it easy, Leliana." Wynne knelt beside her patient and began gently assisting her. "I don't think your personal guard would like to hear I made you exert yourself."

Leliana blushed. She secretly liked the idea of Dorian guarding her. Well, perhaps it wasn't that much of a secret. Wynne noticed and smirked slightly.

"Indeed, I would not want your kindness to be rewarded with a scolding." Leliana smiled as Wynne unwrapped the cloth.

"He can be quite the slave driver, can't he?" The mage chuckled. "Seems to be healed. How's the pain?"

"Bearable." Leliana breathed against the prodding.

"Well, I'd suggest more rest until 'bearable' becomes 'nonexistent." Wynne began applying a greenish salve. Leliana had to turn her head, the smell was rather potent.

"I'm fine, I assure you." She protested.

"Well, you can deny my prescription… but I can always bring healer Amell back in… I'm sure he wouldn't want to hear you are going to disobey-"

"Hmm, perhaps a little longer in bed won't kill me." Leliana chuckled nervously. "Healers orders…"

"Enjoy it while it lasts." Wynne returned the chuckle. "That's my best advice."

"Being pampered over is a nice change." Leliana shook her head with amusement. "I could get used to it."

"Hmm." Wynne's demeanor seemed to shift. "Perhaps, it is good not to get ones hopes up."

"What do you mean?" Leliana looked to the mage. The elderly woman avoided her eyes.

"Another time. Rest dearie." Wynne bandaged Leliana's wound and helped the redhead lay back down.

_What on earth could she have meant?_


	19. Matters of the Heart

_Chapter Nineteen: Matters of the Heart_

Leliana stretched as she slowly crawled out from under her blanket. She felt stiff from all the rest. Desperately, she craved fresh air. Wynne had given her the all clear that she was free of any toxins, so the bard didn't take long to try and escape her makeshift prison. Leliana was never a woman to stay still for too long.

_It shall be good to feel breeze on my cheeks once more. _

Still, she was sternly informed to take it easy. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the constant reminders how close she was to death, many a times the bard had outrun her end. She wasn't as fragile as Wynne thought.

_Or as someone else seems to think. Well, at least I know he cares._

Carefully, she pulled her pants and tunic on, making sure not to disturb the bandages snuggly wrapped around her breasts. The senior mage strongly advised to reframe from wearing armor for the time being. This added to the rogue's annoyance, meaning she would be rather useless if a battle ensued. Leliana sighed as she laced her boots up, remembering to tuck her daggers away. It was a rare occasion when she didn't have them on hand.

Swiftly the bard combed her short hair and retied her little plait. She groaned as she looked in her small pocket mirror. Her hair could use a good wash and a trim, it was getting a little longer than desired. She still looked rather pale and two nice circles had formed under her eyes. She would have killed for a nice hot bath.

_Speaking of heat…_

A small smile tickled her lips. It had been some time since she last saw her dearest Warden. He made a brief visit in the morning, bringing her some breakfast and casually checking to see she was well. Despite being awake for at least two days, the mage had barely come to see her. And whenever he did, he seemed more quiet than usual. Leliana quickly found herself craving not only fresh air, but the presence of a familiar mage. Her mage.

With another good stretch Leliana stepped through the flap of her tent into the cold evening air. She shivered a little as her body adjusted to the temperature. A lovely fire roared by the tents, the lights casted dancing shadows against the canvas.

"Ah, so she finally surfaces." Zevran greeted with a wide grin.

"It is good to be out and about." Leliana stretched with a smile.

"How are you feeling, dearie?" Wynne sipped from a mug by her tent.

"Much better, now that I can get some air." Leliana smiled. "Thank you again for everything."

"I did not do it alone." Wynne waved off. "If anything, Dorian is the one you should be thanking."

"I intend to." Leliana tried to hide the hint of a smirk. "Speaking of which, where is our fearless leader?" Leliana looked around the fire, the familiar warm face was nowhere to be seen.

"Last I saw he was over with Morrigan. Said he had to discuss something with her." Zevran shrugged. "That was some time ago, though."

"He had spent most of the day with her. I'd dear say he is no longer there, besides it looks as though Morrigan has retired for the night." Wynne looked over to the small private camp.

Leliana felt a sting of jealousy. She couldn't help but look over to the darkened campsite, grinding her teeth slightly as she did so. He had chosen to spend the day with her, but had been avoiding Leliana. Had she done something to offend him? Why was he suddenly so interested in the swamp witch?

_Now, now. No need to be so possessive, Leliana._

"No, he is by the lake. I spotted him when I went to get fresh water." Alistair's usual cheery voice was dull. "Said he wanted to be left alone."

Leliana looked to her friend, and let out a loud gasp.

"Makers breath, Alistair! What happened to your face?"

Around the Warden's eye was a large and nasty looking bruise. There was also a visible swollen appearance to his top lip. Leliana quickly realized she had not seen her friend for some time, perhaps they were battle wounds. The blonde man blushed and looked away, a reaction the bard found rather odd.

"I… It's nothing." He tried to shrug her question off. "Nothing to worry over."

"Our dear Alistair did not take my advice seriously." Zevran chuckled. "Perhaps in the future my words will be taken with more consideration."

"I thought I was doing the right thing… being helpful…" he grumbled as he thumbed the marks on his once handsome face.

"I did say people don't think when they are angry." Zevran shook his head. "I said leave him be, but did you listen. Nooo."

"What are you talking about?" Leliana looked between the two men, both seemed uncertain to share what happened. It was Wynne who answered her.

"I ordered Dorian to leave me to my work, he did not listen. He was rather… forceful. So, Alistair attempted to pull him away. Those marks are result of his intervention." She spoke calmly.

"He didn't mean it." Alistair defended. "He apologized straight away. Seemed to calm him down, at least."

"I told you to leave him be…" Zevran shook his head with a smirk. "Now that pretty face is ruined… although, it makes you look rather…manly."

"Shut it elf." Alistair grumbled. "It's not as bad as it looks, didn't really hurt. Was a little startled though."

"I don't understand… why would he not let you work? Work on what?" Leliana stared to Wynne.

"Well, after a day or so… you gained consciousness." The mage did not take her eyes off her drink. "It appeared you were having a hallucination of some sort. He was panicking, trying to calm you down."

"Me? This was because of me?" Leliana's eyes grew wide.

"I heard you're screaming and ran to your tent." Wynne continued. "It was late, so everyone awoke fearing an attack. But we found you thrashing about and Dorian attempting to keep you still. I came to cast a spell to help you calm, but needed assistance. He seemed unable to hear me, so I ordered him to leave. Morrigan volunteered to take his place."

"She… she did?" Leliana felt a little overwhelmed and took a seat by the fire. Suddenly her previous jealous thoughts seemed all the more vicious.

"He refused. Even tried to push Morrigan aside, she stepped past him and came to my aid. Alistair attempted to pull him out, but he kept fighting. Apparently, Alistair received an elbow to the eye and a fist to the lip. After that, things went quiet. I assume he ran off, again." Wynne shook her head. "It was all… unprofessional."

"That's a bit harsh don't you think, Wynne?" Alistair defended. "His friend was in great pain, I would think him a monster if he was not concerned."

"There is concern, then there is irrational behavior." The senior mage scoffed. "A good leader needs to be able to act under pressure."

"What are you trying to say, Wynne?" Alistair's eyes narrowed.

"I am merely thinking he is lacking the qualities needed in a good leader. Duty must always come first."

"I would not insult his leadership, if I were you my friend." Zevran stood. All eyes were on the angered elf. "He may be many things, but a bad leader is not one of them. You clearly do not know Dorian, if you believe such things. And I will not stand by and listen as you insult my friend." With that the elf stormed off to his tent.

"The painted elf is right." The deep voice boomed from across the fire. Leliana looked to the stoic Qunari. "Kadan is a leader worth following. I know this now. You, Saarebas, no nothing of duty." He stroked his sword affectionately.

"I merely said what I have observed." Wynne said with a heavy sigh.

"Where is he now?" was all Leliana could say. She had only been outside for a short time and had become beyond overwhelmed.

"By the lake. But Leliana… I wouldn't bother him…" Alistair looked pained to his friend. "As I said he wanted to be left alone."

"I don't care." She rose up as quickly as her sore body would allow. "I need to speak with him."

Without another word, she headed into the direction Alistair pointed to. She didn't care if he wanted to be alone, if he swore and banished her from his side, she was going to be there for him. Like he was for her.

_I am tired of seeing him suffer alone. No more._

…

Dorian flipped and twirled another stone into the water. It skipped twice then fell beneath the surface with a clunk. He sat forward, elbows placed firmly on his knees, on the fallen tree. Spirit was curled up by his feet, deep in sleep. Ever since Dorian lost control, the hound refused to leave his side. Forever faithful, he proudly thought.

With a heavy sigh he rested his face against his knuckles. The heavy tome folded on the tree fell to the earth with a thump. Dorian grumbled, no doubt he would have lost his page. It wouldn't be too hard to regain his spot though, Avernus's journal was well constructed. He recalled reading something about deathroot extraction being key ingredient, that shouldn't be too hard to recover.

For some time the mage was studying the tome, anything to take his mind off Leliana. Morrigan had graciously offered to help him with several potions, including a recipe for a special armor coating. A way to protect one's self from darkspawn taint. No doubt, that would come in handy.

_Anything to distract me. At least Morrigan doesn't insist on asking my feelings. At least she can focus on the mission, nothing else. _

He groaned slightly at the thought of Morrigan. How easily the woman had forgiven his outburst, but no matter what Dorian did he would never be able repay her for helping Leliana. He knew she hated the bard, and yet she came to her aid. Why, he wondered.

_Perhaps, she did it for me?_

Dorian watched lazily as ripples formed on the water's surface. The light reflecting off the lake was magnificent. It made him remember the nights he spent in the tower, staring out onto Lake Callenhad. How curious that young boy was of the world beyond those stone walls. So many nights he wished for a better life.

"I never should have left…." He cursed into his fists. Pulling his cloak around himself, he wanted nothing more than to vanish into the darkness. To disappear forever. He was a curse, a stain on life. He should be purged of existence.

_Everything I touch… I burn. Everything I love… l endanger. I am a monster._

_I am a monster. Just like everyone says._

The cold sting of tears pierced his eyes. He rubbed them, he had cried to much the past few days. How could he have any more tears? Easily, when he thought of what he had heard inside Leliana's tent that night. It was breaking him, the absence of her voice. The silence was filled with painful thoughts, thoughts that were driving him insane. He craved her presence, anything to take away the icy chill his body was consumed with.

As if the world sensed his needs, the silence was taken away. In its place he could hear the quiet footsteps echo in the bushes behind him. They seemed slightly sluggish, out of practice. But still incredibly nimble, regardless. He knew who had come to see him, he had silently hoped she would. But still wished she didn't. He had tried to distance himself from the woman, hoping with space she would be safe. But no matter what, he was drawn to her. And no matter what he tried, he always found himself by her side.

"Hello Leliana." He said flatly, not taking his eyes off the water.

"How did you know it was me?" that voice, within a mere word, chased away all the darkness in his mind. His heart fluttered. Music to his ears.

"Just a hunch." He breathed out a single chuckle.

"Am I disturbing you?" her voice was shaky, nervous almost.

"No, just thinking."

_Please, keep speaking. Anything, just don't let the silence return. _

"We need to talk." Her voice was gentle, but he detected the hint of concern. Still, he did not turn to her.

"Do we?" he said casually. "What about?"

He had known the others would not keep it all a secret. He knew it wouldn't take long before she learnt of his shame. Well, at least now she would see him for the dangerous monster he was. She would stay away, and be safe. His life would become dull once more, but at least she would be fine.

"May I sit with you?" she asked, fear present in her words. He nodded.

Within seconds she was by his side. How he missed her presence. His cold body warmed instantly. He no longer felt empty, the ice had melted away. How could one person do this to him?

He had missed her, more than he would admit to another soul. She smelt heavenly, that sweet flower and honey scent he craved. For a moment she was quiet.

_Damn, silence. But, at least I am not alone…she could never make me feel that way. _

Dorian couldn't help but watch her in the corner of his eyes. She was dressed so casually, in loose fitting clothes. And yet, not even the finest dressed noblewoman would have compared to her beauty. Her skin still appeared slightly pale, porcelain in the moonlight. He was certain if he reached out and touched her skin, she would break away. So fragile. Dorian couldn't help but now think of her that way, after everything that happened.

"Please say something." Was all he could manage. "Anything."

He was certain his tone was pitiful, he didn't care. That was how he felt.

"What would you like me to say?" she turned to him, eyes full of sorrow.

"Anything. I have missed hearing your voice." His cheeks reddened. But he still didn't care. "I never thought I would hate the silence. But now, it is everywhere."

"How strange." She tried to chuckle.

"What is?" he turned to her.

"I seem to recall a mage who once craved the peace and quiet." She mustered a small smile.

"There is nothing peaceful with this absence…" he shook his head as he mumbled. "An absence only one can fill."

"Sorry?"

"Nothing, just… thinking aloud."

Again, they became silent. Dorian cursed its return, but it didn't affect him quite so much. Leliana's sweet voice still lingered in his mind. It was enough, for a while.

"I'm sorry, for what I have done to you." Leliana turned away from him. "For upsetting you so… so terribly."

"You… you are sorry?" Dorian turned to her, he couldn't help but frown. "I do not understand."

"I can see the pain in your eyes, hear it in your voice. I have done this to you…"

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He shook his head. "I am the one who hurt my friends. Who lost control… who… who failed to protect you. What kind of leader…what kind of friend, does that make me?"

"You didn't fail me." Leliana snapped her head to him and firmly grabbed his hand. "I do not blame you, because it was not your fault. I am fine, everything is alright."

"You are fine this time." He yanked his hand away. "But what about next time? What if… I put you in danger. I put you all in danger. You are all at risk coming with me, it is selfish to have everyone stay."

"We chose to be here. To not only help you, but to help all of Ferelden." She sternly spoke. "You do not need to hold onto this burden alone. You do not put us in danger and you do not fail us. We have to watch out for each other and for ourselves, it is not your responsibility to personally protect all of us."

"You… you don't understand…" he mumbled.

"Then help me." She grabbed his face, daring him to look to her. "Help me to understand."

He pulled away, feeling the tears threaten his eyes once more. Shaking his head violently he tried to push the sounds from his mind. The screaming, the crying. Her voice, twisted in pain. It was killing him, she was killing him.

"I have caused you enough pain…" he strained. "Why can't you _**understand**_ that?"

"The others told me..." she spoke quietly. "I know… I said something that has hurt you. That, is why I am sorry…"

"I-no!" he shook his head. "It wasn't you. Don't blame yourself."

"Then tell me what happened, really." She frowned.

"I…it was nothing. I am fine…" he breathed.

"You are a terrible liar."

"You…" he clung to his head. "You thought I was there to hurt you. You kept saying things in Orlesian, you were too fast to follow… but it sounded like begging. Pleading." He refused to look at her.

He began to rock back and forth, consumed in the memory. Leliana looked on, frozen with her hand over her mouth. Dorian stared at the grass, hoping the earth would swallow him whole. Save him from the nightmare.

"You said her name… the woman who betrayed you. Marjolaine…. You begged her to save you. But she didn't. The bitch didn't…" Dorian growled as he spoke her name. "I remembered what you said about her, what she did…what they did to you. I knew then…what you were seeing."

"Maker…"Leliana breathed.

"But then, you went quiet. Dead silent…" he chewed his lip. "I hate the silence…The others came, they heard you, and they wanted to help… I should have let them… but, you… you said…"

"What? What did I say?" Leliana begged.

"My name…" Dorian looked up to her, tears in his eyes. "You wanted me. You called me to help you… I couldn't leave you… I couldn't…"

Swiftly, without warning Leliana embraced the trembling mage. She held him, and as much as his mind begged him to stop her, Dorian could not. He wanted her, he desired her contact. Feeling her wrap around him felt right. It made all the pain and all the terror go away. The emptiness vanished completely.

"I'm sorry." She breathed against his chest. "I truly am, to have put you through that."

"Please…stop apologizing." He tried to argue. "It is infuriating me."

"Why?" Leliana clung desperately to his body.

"Because…. It was not your fault." He barely said.

_If I ever see that…that bitch… she will pay…_

"And…I'm sorry I couldn't save you…" he murmured against her hair.

"You already have." She nuzzled into his chest. His heart quickened.

For what felt like a blissful eternity, the two sat entwined with one and other. Blissful. Neither said anything, for fear of breaking the spell they were under. Everything that happened no longer mattered, what mattered was that moment. Suddenly, silence didn't feel all that bad.

"I…I suppose, we should return to camp." Dorian finally said. "I'm sure the others have missed you."

He attempted to pull away, but Leliana held him firmly still. He looked down to her clear blue eyes, how he missed them. Missed them more than anything in the world.

"They will have to miss me for a little longer, I'm afraid." She cheekily grinned. "Right now, there is someone I think deserves my company more. Don't you agree?"

Her sweet voice made little butterflies flutter inside. He felt light, a feeling he had not felt for some time now.

"Spirit did miss you, but he is asleep." Dorian smirked. It felt good to let go of his seriousness, even if it was only for her.

"I'm talking about my personal bodyguard. I think he requires a form of payment." She lifted her head up to his eye level.

"I wouldn't say bodyguard…" he sheepishly looked away. His cheeks reddening.

_Maker, I had forgotten how easily she can render me speechless. But, I have to admit… I missed this affect she has on me…_

"Regardless, I insist on rewarding you." Her smirk intensified.

"Wh-what did you have in mind?" Dorian couldn't help but gulp.

"Hmmm…" her face was dangerously close to Dorian's. His heart beat faster than it ever had before. Her eyes focused on his lips. He could feel his mouth dry. Was he dreaming? It was a rather pleasant dream if it was.

_Maker…. What do I do? What should I do? _

Leliana paused just before his lips. Dorian felt his heart stop beating, she was dangerously close.

"I was thinking," she said in her breathy accent. "Perhaps, I could tempt you…"

"Y-yes?"

"…with a story?"

She moved away, with a seemingly innocent smile on her face. Dorian felt slightly relieved, but also a little disappointed. His shoulders slumped slightly. It must have been obvious, because her cheeky grin returned.

"Is that not a good enough reward?" she teased. "Perhaps, you could think of something better?"

Dorian chuckled slightly. She was playing with him, and winning very easily. Oh how she flustered the mage. He never minded though, in fact he had come to enjoy it. He had come to crave everything about her. Tasting the absence of life without her was enough to make him realize, Dorian had to make the best of every moment he shared with Leliana.

"Actually…" he grinned. "I think for my reward, I would like you to teach me a few things."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "Anything in particular the gentlemen would like to learn?"

_Oh, she is good._

"Well, there is one particular skill you certainly have that I would love to know…" his grin intensified.

"I have many skills, you will have to be specific." Leliana purred. Dorian leaned closely, making sure not to break eye contact. Leliana stiffened slightly, her cheeks reddened a little. She was not expecting this, Dorian could tell. It only encouraged him to continue.

"I would like to learn how to…" he breathed. "Be a bard."

"Wh-what?" Leliana snapped out of her daze. Slightly flustered and a whole lot confused.

_Success! _

"I am curious, can you teach me how to be a bard?" he smirked leaning back. "You know, fling daggers, be sneaky… bard stuff like that."

"Uh…" Leliana was rightfully stunned. "I don't think you have the correct… aptitude. And I don't 'fling' daggers."

"Oh, come on." Dorian chuckled. "I'll try really hard to be bardish. I'll even grow a charming mustache, to look more suave."

"Oh… fine." Leliana sighed, a small smile betrayed her lips. "I could give you some pointers, I can't imagine they will be much use to you… but maybe you might be able to pass them on. One condition though."

"Yes?"

"No mustache. It wouldn't suit you." She smirked.

"Such a heavy price to pay…but I accept." Dorian clapped triumphantly. "And who knows, I may surprise you."

"Well, at least we are a good distance away from the others." She smirked standing up.

"Why's that?" Dorian crossed his arms.

"For safety, yes?" Leliana chuckled. "I expect there shall be daggers flying about willy-nilly for a time." She drew her hidden blades and twirled them playfully.

"Wait… I meant when you were all better." Dorian waved his hands. "I didn't mean right now."

"Oh?" Leliana leaned down, smirking at her pupil. "Worried you shall be bested by an injured lady?"

"I-no-I-just…" he stuttered nervously. "I don't want you to get hurt, you are still wounded."

"Ha!" Leliana pushed Dorian slightly. "You offend me with your concern. I am not a delicate flower."

"Still I…" Dorian couldn't help but melt under her gaze.

"Come now, Dory…" she smirked. "I'll go easy on you."

Dorian's head snapped up to meet Leliana's eyes. Again she twirled her daggers suggestively.

"Wh-what did you call me?" he chuckled. "You know, only children call me that. They cannot pronounce my name any other way."

"I think it's cute." She giggled. "Suits you. Cute, and harmless."

"Madam, you insult me!" Dorian gave a look of mock offense. He jumped up to his feet, Leliana grinned victoriously. He had taken her bait. "You wound me so."

"I shall try not to." Leliana chuckled. She threw her daggers to the earth and smirked at Dorian. "Step one, pick them up."

"Simple enough." He laughed. "Seems more like servitude training though-"

Dorian attempted to reach for the blades, but before he had a chance Leliana pounced on the unsuspecting mage. Her movement was swift, he never saw her coming. With a heavy thud he landed to the earth with a rather amused bard atop him. She waved the blades by his throat.

_How did she even grab those?_

"Lesson one, keep your eyes on your enemy." She smirked.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Dorian struggled under her tight hold.

"Being a bard isn't about being fair, it's about being fast and having the upper hand at all times." She whispered into his ear. Sending a shiver down his spine. "Victory, by any means…"

"Alright, I get it. Let me up." he wiggled under her grip.

"But why?" she purred. "Do I make you…uncomfortable…?" Dorian grew very aware of the position they had landed in. His hands pinned beneath her knees, he was unable to move. He was beginning to feel incredibly hot under the collar.

"Uh… come on… let me up." he gulped.

"Lesson two, show the victim who is in control." Leliana lifted herself up, her hair fell freely over her face. Dorian felt heat continue to rise in his body. Maker, she was beautiful…and on top of him.

"Okay… I get it…" he spluttered, desperate to be released. Leliana chuckled and climbed off her student. The mage clambered to his feet, flustered and low on breath.

"Maker, for a someone who is wounded… you're quick on your feet." He breathed.

"I did warn you, I am no delicate flower." She chuckled. "Alright, now we get into the fun stuff." Her eyes twinkled.

"I'm starting to think this was a bad idea…." Dorian looked worriedly on the fiery red head before him. He couldn't help but admire her body. Loose fitting shirt or not, the way she stood, proud with daggers ready, made her look incredibly...

"You are staring, Dorian." Leliana grinned.

"Uh, sorry…" Dorian blushed.

"Let's continue."

…

Dorian rolled onto his back, sweat pouring from his sore muscles. His breathing slowly steadied as he looked up to his smug teacher. She barely seemed to flinch with exhaustion. She loomed over him, dagger at the ready. Dorian waved her off.

"I yield." He breathed. "You win, I yield."

"Aw, but you were doing so well." Leliana grinned as she offered him a hand. "Started getting the hang of it."

"I don't think I stood much of a chance against someone so skilled." He handed her dagger back. "Injured or not."

"Well, you did surprisingly well for someone who isn't a rogue." She smiled.

"I think I'll stick to using larger weapons from now on." Dorian slumped back on the log. "I seem to have a knack for that."

"I'm sure with practice you would be just as skillful." She took her seat beside him. "I seem to recall you were rather useless with a sword, until Sten taught you."

Spirit had not stirred the entire evening. Dorian rested his feet beside the snoozing dog. He smiled at the hound. The dog's paws twitched as he dreamed, the mage chuckled at the sight.

"May I ask where the interest in bard training came from?" Leliana placed her daggers back in their hidden spots. "Not that I don't find it flattering, just seems slightly out of the blue."

"I… just admire how you fight." He blushed. "You make it seem more like dancing than fighting. Graceful, quick and incredibly deadly."

"I didn't realize you watched me so intently." Leliana teased.

"I-uh-yeah…sorry." Dorian rubbed his neck. Leliana giggled and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's alright, I don't mind." She smiled. Dorian couldn't help but grin as he stared out on the lake.

He sighed, despite everything that was happening in the world, it was moments like this that he truly felt happy. Moments with Leliana. Never again would he allow them to be separated. As long as she allowed him at her side, he would be there.

"Do you ever wonder about where life takes you?" He said as he leaned forward. "How quickly things can change."

"Yes, I often think about that." She nodded. "Seems like only yesterday I was in the Chantry, saying my prayers."

"And I was in the Circle, training to become First Enchanter." Dorian chuckled.

"Seems the Maker had a different plan for us." Leliana smiled. "I'd like to think this one, turned out for the better. Despite all the doom and gloom, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."

"I can't agree more." Dorian smiled. "Funny, reminds me of something…"he began to laugh enthusiastically.

"What?" she smiled. "Don't leave me out."

"First thing Alistair ever said to me, was how the Blight could bring people together." He shook his head. "I thought he was completely insane. Now, I agree completely."

"It is rather strange." She chuckled. "Yet, true. It brought us together."

She placed a hand on Dorian's and smiled. The mage blushed brightly, but didn't move away. He just smiled back, content with idea of them being together.

"So, where do you think life will take you, once this is over?" he finally asked.

"Hmmm," Leliana leaned back staring up into the stars. "I have not given this a lot of thought. What will I do…?"

Dorian turned and watched as she thought deeply on what the future held. She absentmindedly twirled her plait as she contemplated.

"Well, we've traveled far and wide… does it need to end?" she turned to Dorian hopeful.

"I had hoped you'd say that." He couldn't help but grin.

"There's so much out there. Adventures to be had and stories to be told. I want to be a part of it all." Her eyes danced with light. "I might need some company…and you're not too irritating." She playfully shoved her friend. "You're welcome to come along, if you like."

"I'd love to." He grinned, overjoyed he would not have to say farewell to his dear companion.

"It is settled then." Leliana beamed with joy. "You and I… wandering the world, seeking our fortunes. I can't wait."

"Neither can I." Dorian grinned ear to ear. "Guess I have something to look forward to when all this is over."

"Where shall we go first?" she smiled.

"Where ever the lady desires." He grinned back.

"Hmm, I shall have to think on it."

Dorian and Leliana sat together in the quiet night, enjoying the stars. Neither worried for what the future held, as long as there was something good waiting for them to enjoy. Enjoy it, together. Dorian smiled and looked to Leliana. He had been contemplating for some time whether being with her was wise, or if it was certain she felt the same. He didn't have a choice anymore, the past few days had confirmed that.

_I can't live without her. I never want to feel her absence again._

"I enjoy these nights." Dorian finally broke the silence. "When it's just you and me. We can stay up, no one watching or judging."

"I enjoy them as well." Leliana smiled back at him.

"I can truly be myself around you, Leliana." Dorian felt his throat tighten. "I don't need to be a Warden, or a Mage, or a leader. With you… I can be… well, Dorian…"

"That's because I care about Dorian." She smiled. "Not just certain parts, I care about all of him."

"And Dorian… he cares about you…" he smiled back. "Very much so, in fact. He has come to realize this, the past few days…"

Leliana's eyes widened, she looked away slightly stunned. Dorian began to panic, maybe he had read the signs wrong. Maybe there were no signs at all. He worried he had said too much, too little.

"I… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…" he felt his pulse spike in panic.

She interrupted him. But not with the reaction he expected. Instead of putting him back in his place, she spoke with a soft, aching tone. Vulnerable, a side she only showed for him.

"I'm…I'm glad to hear that." A small smile hinted at the corners of her lips. Dorian let out a sigh of relief.

Unsuccessfully, he tried to think further of something nice to say. His mind had become a muddle of thoughts. Finally, it appeared his nerves caught up with him. Leliana eventually broke the awkward silence, Dorian was rather grateful for it.

"I also enjoy the nights at camp." She smiled. "The night always seems more peaceful to me. Safer…"

"I know what you mean." Dorian smiled. The nights were his favorite time, especially when he spent them talking with Leliana.

"I feel the night grants us a reprieve, from the troubles of the day… Silly, isn't it? The darkspawn never sleep and they lurk in the shadows…" her voice was uneasy, Dorian assumed it was at the mention of darkspawn.

"There is nothing to worry about. We are perfectly safe at camp." He reassured. With his enhanced taint he would sense if a darkspawn so much as considered approaching the camp. "And, it is not silly to seek moments to lay down your burdens. It is a rather human notion, we all deserve moments to ourselves."

With his words Leliana shifted her position, she seemed uncharacteristically awkward. Dorian turned to face her fully. Wanting to see her reactions, he was curious as to why she was acting this way. She seemed uneager to return his gaze.

"I enjoy those nights, when we stand guard together. Talking to pass the time in those small hours… well, I talk and you listen mostly." She lightly laughed, more of nerves than anything else. "Sometimes, I succumb and fall asleep, and wake to find you still watchful… and, I know you are watching out for me."

Dorian remembered fondly those nights, especially one in particular. The night they sat on guard together, when he allowed her to rest on him. He had allowed her the comfort of her dreams while he made sure she would not be disturbed. Often he had caught himself unknowingly stroking her cheek. That night he realized how fond of her he was. It all seemed so long ago.

"You never have to feel afraid with me." He spoke this forcefully. "I swear, I will not let harm befall you. Never again."

He could tell she was a loss for words, he had rendered the skilled Bard speechless. He, a plain, awkward, sheltered Mage. She struggled to look to him, slightly embarrassed by her vulnerability.

"What I am trying to say is… that I trust you… I'm comfortable around you." She finally met his eyes, they looked so bright in the moonlight. "I know you will be there when I need you."

"For as long as you need me." He smiled. Saying such things seemed easier, considering it was not he who controlled the conversation. He wondered if he too looked as uncomfortable when he spoke of his emotions with her.

_I would dear say I looked twice as uncomfortable. _

Once again she had become flustered with her inability to express her words. She fidgeted and played with her hands. Dorian kept his face gentle, even though his heart raced faster than possible. He was nervous, hoping what she was saying was what he desired to hear.

"You are our leader, and my friend… and, sometimes I think that ah… maybe… we could be more than that…" she looked to him, pleading with her eyes.

Dorian's eyes widened. He must have looked like a trapped owl, shocked, frightened. Lost for words. He doubted his ears.

_Did she just say what I think she said? No, I misheard…_

"Maker, look at me stumbling over my words like an ill-educated peasant girl. Some Bard I am."

She let out an awkward, unnerved laugh. Clearly afraid of what Dorian would say. Dorian just stared at her, in utter disbelief. Was he dreaming? Surely he was. She fidgeted, embarrassed by his intense gaze.

"You are staring, again." She blushed.

"I can't help it. You're cute when you're embarrassed…" that slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to even think.

_Sweet flaming Andraste! Did I just say that! Out LOUD! _

"I'm not embarrassed… I'm just flushed, from the… heat." She was trying very hard to hide her smile. Dorian on the other hand, made no attempt to mask the joy smeared proudly on his face.

"Ferelden this time of year isn't characteristically 'hot'… you know…" he teased. For once he felt rather confident, he had made her flustered. She liked him, Maker behold, _**she **_liked _**him**_.

"Well… maybe it's the company…" she flirted back, still slightly nervous she tried to remain casual.

"Well, I am a walking furnace." He chuckled, rubbing his neck.

"That… is not what I meant…" she looked at him through her eyelashes. Dorian blushed, but he did not feel embarrassed.

"Someone like you, being interested in me is… flattering." Still completely stunned, words flowed out without a need to be considered.

"What, are you saying I have bad taste?" a hint of a smirk crossed her lips. "Why can't I like you? You are a good person, a great listener. A remarkable warrior, you often show signs of intelligence." She teased. "And your mostly good looking, most of your facial features are in the right place. And when you clean up, you look rather presentable."

"Thanks, you're so complimentary…" he laughed while rubbing his smooth chin. "Figured I was overdue for a trim." She returned his laugh, easing the tension slightly.

"Well, not that it didn't suit you." She smiled. "Made you look rather rugged and manly."

"Hmmm, maybe I should have kept the beard then." He winked.

For a moment she tried to think of something to say, Dorian continued to stare at her with wonderment. He still didn't believe it was all happening.

"There, isn't much more I can say." She said finally with a shrug. "My feelings, have been made bare. You are, very special to me… dear to my heart..."

The words struck a chord in his memories. He had said them to her, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Had she felt this way for that long, and neither of them said anything? They both had these feelings for some time, and not admitted it. It all seemed a little silly, he could have laughed about it.

_Say something you blighted fool! Don't just stare at her!_

"I've… I've always wanted to be more than friends…" he finally admitted. "I... have cared about you… for some time. And why wouldn't I? You are the most amazing person I have ever met, and the most beautiful…"

"Really?" Leliana's blush intensified, she seemed a little shocked but mostly happy. "No, no one told me! You, you felt the same way and didn't do me the courtesy of informing me? You made me say all those things!" Dorian still sat dumbfounded, uncertain if he was awake. "You… you… uh! Oh, how very awkward!" She broke eye contact, face lighting up for all of Ferelden to marvel at.

Panicking that he had upset her, and yet still bewildered, Dorian attempted to articulate a response. If he had paid close enough attention, he would have spied the cheeky grin hidden on Leliana's face.

"I-I did try to tell you…" he spluttered. "I was just… I felt uncomfortable… overly nervous. I didn't do so well."

"You felt uncomfortable, with me?" Leliana feigned hurt. "You don't make _**me **_uncomfortable."

"If you are comfortable around me, then why are you embarrassed?" Dorian couldn't help but smirk. That was abnormally cunning of him.

"Yes, but… but. Oh don't question me! I am a woman, and I reserve the right to be inconsistent." lowering her defenses once more, she began to allow her smile to show. "Oh, chivalry is so dead… making a lady spill her guts like that."

"Sorry to make you do so." Dorian couldn't help but chuckle. His big goofy grin shone like a beacon in the night. Leliana raised her eyebrow at him and smirked.

"Well, someone had to make the first move." She teased. "I was tired of waiting around."

"I thought good things come to those who wait?" Dorian continued to grin. "I waited, and it looks like something rather amazing is happening…"

"Is that so?" she chuckled.

For a moment she was unable to look at Dorian, possibly because his face was too amusing to focus on. He was amazed. He feared any moment he would wake up and be back in the Circle, that this was all a magical dream his imagination made up from all the romance novels he read.

_If this is a dream, then I had better make the best of it…_

Leaning in closer, closing the small gap between them, Dorian gently held a hand against Leliana's cheek. Forcing her to look back at him. He tried to keep his composure, to be the romantic hero he read about. Suave, bold, charming. He would not falter, not now. He would listen to his heart. Just like she said he should. She did not turn away from him, just looked deep into his eyes. Longing for him to finish what he started.

"Perhaps…" he said just above a whisper. "It's time I went to that remarkable place, you once mentioned."

"Perhaps, you should." She dared.

"Well, as long as the lady thinks I should-"

He was not given a chance to say another word. Before he could register what happened, Leliana's lips joined with his. With a swift movement, her lips had been pressed against his. One hand entwined in his hair, the other gently pressed against his cheek. Their hearts exhilarated and spines tingled as they shared their first kiss. Dorian couldn't help but let out a sigh as he closed his eyes.

Her lips felt so soft, warm. Like he imagined they would, no better. Her breath tasted sweet, sweeter than sugar. It was intoxicating. Dorian swore he felt his body melt beneath her touch. At first, their lips remained still as they pressed together, unsure how to proceed. Both cautious of the other, not wanting to rush. It wasn't until Dorian wrapped his arms around Leliana, did they begin to feel completely at ease.

Sighing, she pulled closer to his body. He quivered and tingled with every touch, with every movement their lips shared. She allowed him to go as fast or as slow as he wanted, giving him the chance to explore the feelings. The soft skin on her hands, gently caressing the warmth of his bare neck then slowly moving down his shirt to his back. His mind couldn't focus on any particular feeling or movement. It all felt beyond words. He read about kissing, but what he was experiencing was far greater than any description the stories gave. Her soft gentle lips pressed hungrily onto his.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart for a moment. Both desperate for air. Opening their eyes they smiled at each other.

"You talk too much." Leliana purred as she smiled blissfully to the mage. "I find it-"

It was Dorian this time who silenced the words. He held her face gently as he kissed her once more. He pulled her to him, desiring to feel the warmth of her kiss once more. He craved her touch, her taste. It sent him into a state of euphoria. He no longer felt control, just instinct, desire. Leliana moaned and sighed against his touch. It sent shivers through him to hear such noises being made.

Her hangs gripped his skin, clinging, holding him still. She did not want him to run away, never again would she allow it. He was at times a little rough, clumsy. Despite his lack of experience, Leliana never complained. Rather, she enthusiastically taught him the steps. She wanted him. Sighing, that was all the reassurance he needed.

He surprised himself when he began to get the upper hand and cause her to quiver at his touch. After what felt like a magical eternity, Leliana reluctantly pulled away from him. Leaving him sitting there, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. A small smirk crossing his mouth.

"Well… I… um…" once again, he had rendered her speechless and blushing brighter than any fire. "That settles it then…"

"I… yes… I guess it does…" he breathed. "But just so we're clear… want to run it by me again?"

The both of them sat in the moonlight, laughing blissfully. In that moment, they had each other. The damned Blight could wait. The world could wait. And if they refused to, it gave Dorian more reason to push on.

_It will be worthwhile, to know she is waiting for me._


	20. Pretty Thing

_Chapter Twenty: Pretty Thing _

Nothing could have wiped the smile from Dorian's face. Nothing. Not the Blight, not darkspawn, not one single problem the world had to offer. For the first time in his life, Dorian was beyond happy.

With every step he took, the mage was certain he could have floated away into the clouds. A noticeable spring lifted him with each step. He smiled ahead, watching as a beautiful lady conversed with the senior mage Wynne. This was no ordinary beautiful lady. No, this was the most amazing beautiful lady in the world. This, was Leliana. His, Leliana.

He felt giddy at the thought. Finally she knew just how deeply he cared about her. Still, he desperately wanted to run up to her and show her once more just how much he cared. He felt even giddier at the thought of how he wanted to show her.

_Maker… kissing Leliana, I never thought it possible._

He sighed as he continued to watch her. Not a care in the world. She turned her head slightly and noticed his eyes, a small blush spread to her cheeks and she coyly smiled to her new love. Only adding to Dorian's grin.

"I'm glad to see you're in a good mood this morning, Dorian." Alistair grinned as he caught up to his friend. "You haven't stopped smiling since last night when you returned to camp."

He didn't reply, not being rude, he simply didn't hear his friend. He continued to smile lovingly to the back of Leliana's head.

"Did Leliana say something to make you happy?" The large man continued to try and converse. "She seemed pretty happy when you both returned. Must have been a pretty good conversation, you were gone for a while."

"Alistair," Zevran sprang alongside the Warden's. "It isn't what she said…rather what she didn't."

"What do you mean?" Alistair turned to his companion.

"What I mean is she found another use for her tongue, rather than to converse with our dear Warden." Zevran winked. Dorian still was unaware he wasn't alone.

"What…?" Alistair scratched his head. "What else could she do with her…" he went silent. "Oh…" he went pink.

"Ah ha, he gets it now." Zevran chuckled. "From that look he is giving her, I'd say it was rather pleasant. I might add."

"Does that mean they are finally together?" Alistair grinned, happy for his friends.

"Don't ask me, why not ask our dear friend?" Zevran chuckled.

"Dorian!" Alistair waved his hand in front of the mages face. "Earth to Dorian. Anyone home?"

"Uh, what…?" he awkwardly blinked as he regained focus. "Sorry, I was thinking…"

"I'm sure I can guess what you were thinking about." Zevran wiggled his eyebrows. "So, this new mood you are in, am I to assume it is because of the conversation you and the lovely Leliana had last night?"

"Mood?" Dorian tried to hide his blush. "I'm not in a mood. I'm rather happy actually."

"That is what we are talking about." Zevran grinned. "In my experiences, talking doesn't tend to put a grin that wide on a man's face. If I had to make a guess… I'd say you two did more than 'talk'."

"I-you-what-I have no idea what you are talking about…" Dorian fidgeted.

"Come now, I was not born yesterday." The elf chuckled. "It would be easier to own up, otherwise I might have to imagine what exactly the two of you did instead of talk. My version might not be quite as sweet and innocent either."

"Just… mind your own business…" Dorian blushed. This all but confirmed Zevran's beliefs, the elf chuckled and began walking off on his own.

"Well… I'm happy for you two." Alistair smiled. "I think Zevran is aswell, but he has an odd way of showing it. I prefer seeing you grinning madly, you haven't been very… well, you know."

"I am sorry for what happened, Alistair." Dorian hung his head. "I truly am."

"Ah, don't mention it. The marks are almost gone now anyway." The big man shrugged.

"There is no excuse for what I did…"

"Yeah there is…" Alistair smiled. "The woman you loved was in pain."

"Still…" Dorian blushed.

"Just forget it. I'm just relieved you two finally got your act together. Zevran was almost going to take bets on how long it would take."

"I can tell already this is going to be the gossip about camp." Dorian sighed. "We were hoping to keep it quiet for a while."

"Why? I would have thought you'd want to shout it from the mountains." Alistair chuckled.

"Well… I wouldn't mind… but it would just be easier. No one seems to mind their own business around here, no privacy." He glared to the elf who was now trying to annoy Leliana. Wynne had a serious look on her face, no doubt the elf was saying something offensive.

"That's your choice I suppose." Alistair shrugged. "But, I'm happy for you. You two deserve each other."

"Thank you…" Dorian couldn't help but smile.

"Well, I have to go speak to Wynne. Need to get some more health poultices from her… looks like Zevran might need them when she is through with him though."

Dorian chuckled as he watched the elf being scolded at by the senior mage. Leliana was visibly trying to suppress her laughter.

"You might need to save him from Wynne's wrath." Dorian shook his head. "She looks ready to light him on fire… Maker knows what he has said."

"I'm sure Leliana will tell you." Alistair smiled. "Looks like she's coming this way. Talk later bud." With that the large Warden ran up to the near shouting mage. Zevran was attempting to hide behind a tree, Wynne waved her staff angrily at the hiding elf. Just as Alistair noticed, Leliana had decided to join Dorian.

"Why hello there, my sweet Warden." Leliana pecked the still smiling mages cheek. "How are we this fine day?"

"I uh…" he blushed. "Rather well… actually."

"I am glad to hear that." She winked. The two passed the shouting mage and cowering elf, now joined by Alistair who was attempting to calm the situation.

"Err… not that I don't mind, but I thought we were going to keep our relationship to ourselves? You know, save ourselves from the gossip of our 'friends'."

"Tsk tsk, I hope you aren't embarrassed by my public displays of affection?" Leliana tried to feign hurt.

"Never." Dorian took her hand in his. A wide smile spread across Leliana's face. "If you don't mind what the others think, neither do I. If anything, they should be jealous."

"Of?"

"Of the beautiful woman who I was fortunate enough to win the heart of." He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Tis sickening watching you two." Morrigan passed with a look of actual nausea. "I feel my teeth rotting away from watching your displays. I hope this won't be a regular occurrence?"

"Yes it will be." Leliana beamed. "So I advise you to look elsewhere."

Morrigan rolled her eyes and continued her fast stride. Dorian couldn't help but let out a small immature chuckled as Leliana swayed their hands with each step they took.

"So much for not being the topic of gossip." He laughed.

"To be honest, I think we are old news." She winked. "Seems the group was well aware of our feelings. Before we were in fact. And from the charming discussion I just had with Zevran, I don't think secrecy was ever an option."

"Oh Maker, what did that odd little man say to you?" Dorian groaned as he turned his head to see a now slightly singed Zevran walking well away from Wynne.

"Well… he complimented on me my tongue…"

"Your… _**what**_!?"

"He said he was often curious of its talents. Considering it can help me to make beautiful music, and apparently permits me too constantly talk… was a little insulted by that…"

"You are insulted because he thought you talk too much…? Never mind, continue."

"Well, he said after mentioning the talents of Lady Catarina and her ability to tie a knot in a cherry, he was wondering if all fine women from Orlais possessed such skills with their tongues…"

"Go on…" Dorian pressed when he noticed Leliana blushed.

"He then went on to congratulate me, considering the wide grin painted on your face was a clear indicator that such a skill does exist…"

"Did he now…" Dorian ground his teeth. "I am going to make that little perv wish Wynne had fried him properly…"

"Oh come now, don't be embarrassed… I had no idea you wanted to brag about my 'skills'. I'm flattered." She nudged the blushing mage.

"I-didn't-say-anything…" Dorian stuttered out. "He just… He's Zevran, he says these things…"

"I know, don't fret so much." Another chaste kiss was planted on the mages cheek. "You truly are sweet, you know that don't you? How much I adore you."

"I am always willing for you to continue to show me." He grinned cheekily.

"That is rather saucy, my my." Leliana giggled. "Perhaps you aren't the innocent mage I have come to believe."

"Perhaps." Dorian chuckled. "Err, anyway…" he blushed. "What did Zevran say to offend Wynne so? I haven't seen her quite this enraged before. Normally she takes his comments in good stride."

"I think she was at her wits end with Zevran, apparently he has been saying such rude things to her as of late… Well, she came to my defense. Stating he was being most inappropriate…to which he replied he was willing to see if her 'magical tongue' along with her 'magical bosom' held any special skills… Wynne did not take lightly to such… comments."

"Cannot say I blame her." Dorian chuckled loudly. "I'm not too pleased he said such things about my girlfriend."

"Oh?" Leliana tried to hide her grin. "So possessive."

"When you are with the most beautiful woman in Thedas, one tends to be a little on the possessive side." He couldn't help but grin. "But, I shall try not to be."

"Well… maybe just a little won't hurt anyone." Leliana let out a small giggle.

"Whatever the lady wants, the lady shall receive." Dorian chuckled.

Spirit continued to walk alongside the couple, occasionally swapping sides, but he always maintained pace with him. Dorian couldn't help but chuckle, even his trusted dog seemed pleased with the idea of the two being an 'item'. Honestly, nothing would spoil his mood.

As if sensing his joy, the world acted against it. Something in the wind shifted. A cool breeze swept over the travelers, both Dorian and Spirit tensed. A low growl left the Mabari's mouth, confirming the mage his worries were correct. Travelling on the winds was the faint smell of irons and leather. It was faint, but Dorian's enhanced senses still detected its trace.

"What is it?" Leliana tensed and followed Dorian's eyes. "Darkspawn?"

"No…" Dorian shook his head. "But, something tells me we are not alone…"

Spirit began growling viciously towards the direction of the forest clearing. Dorian began to hear a steady thumping sound, something was definitely coming this way, and fast. Fast and careless. How very odd, he thought.

"Whoever it is, they have a funny idea of ambushing." Leliana chuckled.

"Let's give them a nice greeting, shall we?" Dorian grinned. "Go let the others know we have company."

Reluctantly, Leliana let go of his hand and ran to the straggling party members. Dorian sprinted towards a gathering of trees, and crouched down, ready to great their 'guests'.

"Tis pleasing to see that woman has not dulled your senses." A sultry voice sounded from above Dorian. "Here I was thinking I would be the only one to notice the buffoons."

"May I ask what you are doing in a tree?" Dorian grinned, but kept his eyes on the clearing.

"I thought I would wait for their arrival, and give them a nice surprise." Morrigan chuckled.

"Seems we had a similar plan." Dorian could hear the footsteps growing closer and closer.

"The others have taken cover aswell." Morrigan announced. "The dwarfs appear to be a distraction. Indeed, this shall be most amusing."

Suddenly, a group of only ten or so armed men ran into the clearing. Clanking about loudly, each huffing as their breaths escaped them. Their armor was cheap and thrown together. Common thieves, Dorian thought.

"I thought they said they went dis way?" one of the men further back called. "There is just a bleeding dwarf merchant. That's not worth our time…"

"Shud it ya idiot!" another shouted. "Gold's gold. Just stick to the plan!"

"Tis amusing. They apparently had a plan." Morrigan sneered. "Enough of this!"

With that the feisty woman sprang from her perch and took form. Her body convulsed as her extra legs crawled from her body. The men froze in fear as the giant spider attacked.

"Sodding hell! Kill it!" one panicked.

Dorian swung his staff and a large flame licked the air, engulfing several of the 'attackers'. With that, the others sprang to attention, showing the fools how to create a true ambush. What few men that escaped both Morrigan and Dorian's strike, were quickly taken down by the others.

But, it wasn't as simple as they at first thought. While they were distracted by the few who had given away their presence, a large number of finely armored bandits sprang from the trees, taking the party off guard. The men and women whom surprised the travelers were nothing in comparison to the fools they previously fought.

Regardless of the ambusher's skills and equipment, they clearly hadn't expected a group quite like the ones they had attacked. Sten and Shale alone made fast work of them. It didn't take long before all of the attackers were slaughtered.

"That was not as much fun as I hoped." The stone giant huffed. "There was hardly any to squish."

"Next time Shale." Dorian chuckled as he approached a man who was attempting to flee. "Looks like we missed one."

"Let me squish it!"

"Be my guest." Dorian attached his staff.

Before Shale was given a chance though, Leliana intervened, much to the surprise of the entire party.

"Stop, don't kill him!" she stood before the man.

"What?" Dorian asked as he came to stand before her. "Why not?"

"He is no common bandit. None of them were. Their weapons and armor are of fine make, and these few were well trained." She drew one of her daggers and crouched before the wounded man. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Who are you?" she yanked the man's face upwards, blood trickled from his lip.

"Someone who regrets taking you on…" the man spluttered. Leliana released him, allowing the man to stand. "I was told it would be an easy job…"

"Ha, twas easy defeating you and your band of buffoons." Morrigan snickered to herself, once more in her human form.

"Kill the little red head girl…" the man continued. "Deal with the others as we pleased… what we weren't informed was who the others bloody were…" his eyes lingered on the stone giant, ready to squash his head at a moment's notice. "All this, for some girl…"

"Kill the… you came to kill me?" Leliana stuttered out. The rest of the party watched her, but Dorian's eyes did not leave the man before him. He could feel his hands twitch with a burning sensation.

"No one threatens my friends and lives!" Dorian drew his sword. He felt Leliana place a hand on his shoulder, he looked to her. Her eyes were pleading.

"Please, I have to hear what he has to say." She needn't say more. Reluctantly Dorian lowered his sword.

"Do you think this has something to do with Orlais?" he asked her.

"It could. You may be right." Her attention returned to the stranger. "Who sent you? Why am I wanted dead?"

"I don't pay to ask why someone wants someone else dead." The man groaned in pain. "I just need to know what to do, and where to get my money. Ha, money… I'll be lucky to get out of this with my life, it seems." The man heaved in agony, a bloody patch spread across his chest plate. Dorian grinned, he was certain he caused that slash.

"Yes, it would appear so." He snarled.

"Maybe… maybe we could work something out?" the man's eyes pleaded, desperate to cling to whatever life he had left. "You like the idea?" he focused on Leliana, certain his fate rested with her.

"Speak quickly." She did not soften her harsh face. This man was as good as dead, if she did not like what he had to say.

"I have no real quarrel with you, it wasn't me that wanted you dead…" he reasoned. "But, I know where to find the one who does…"

"Your life, for that information." Dorian said bluntly. "We guarantee nothing though…" he added with a snarl.

"I have some directions written down…on how to get to the house." the man was nervous now, he was certain he held no leverage. Either way, he was possibly going to die. "It's in Denerim…" he fished the letter from his pocket and handed the slightly bloodied and crumpled parchment to Leliana.

"That's convenient." Zevran chuckled. "But, who else but someone in that city would hold the coin for such an assassination attempt. I wonder… why they didn't contact the crows…" the elf scratched his chin deep in contemplation.

"That's the best I can do…" the man coughed once more.

"Thank you." Leliana looked intently onto the letter. "Now leave, I never want to see you again…"

Dorian felt the urge to argue. This man didn't deserve to live, he had tried to kill them. To kill her. But a memory came to his mind. It was circumstances similar to this, that he had met one of his most truest of friends. He glanced to the assassin close to his side, ready to protect him. He had given Zevran the chance to redeem himself. That was what Leliana had chosen to do aswell. It was not his place to end that man's life.

"Get lost…" he sighed. "Before I change my mind…"

"Don't worry… I'll not trouble you no more." With that, the injured man stumbled back into the forest. Dorian wasn't certain if he would ever see that man again, but he hoped wherever life may take him, he would not squander the gift Leliana had granted him.

"Alright, move out." Dorian ordered his companions. "We are only a few hours from Denerim. We can rest once we get there." The others nodded and took their leaves. Leliana continued to stare to the letter. Dorian drew near her, unsure what to say to comfort her.

"It's Marjolaine… I just know it…" she said to herself.

"Why now?" Dorian shook his head. "Why is she doing this now?"

"Maybe someone saw me." Leliana looked up to her companion. "Maybe, she finally found me… and wants to finish what she started."

"What do you wish to do?" he asked her, but knew what her answer would be.

"Maybe we should pay her a visit." A nasty snarl formed on her lips. "It's time we settled this score, for good." She turned and went to leave, but was stopped. Dorian took hold of her arm. She look up at him, confused.

"Promise me something?" he cocked his head and looked to her with his doleful eyes. "Please?"

"Of course." She turned to him.

"That you'll be careful." He breathed. "I can't bear the thought of seeing you in pain again…"

"Oh Dory…" Leliana closed the gap between them and embraced her dearest Warden. "You do not need to fear. I am not as fragile as you think."

"I know, you are a strong and dangerous woman. The strongest person I have ever met." He nodded, one hand casually stroking her soft hair. "I still can't help but worry. Especially about this woman, look what has already happened by her hand… I can't help but be frightened. Does that make me a bad boyfriend…?" he asked, heavy with concern.

"No." Leliana shook her head. "It makes you one who cares. I wouldn't have you any other way."

"I'm still amazed you're willing to have me." He chuckled.

Leliana looked up to his face. He stared down into her clear blue eyes. They were filled with pain, pain caused by someone Dorian was soon to meet. He was unsure if his love was willing to spare her betrayers life, if he would be capable to allow it.

"_Mon Coeur_." He said with a smile. "I hope you know, just how much I adore you."

"I'm starting to get the idea… and your Orlesian is getting extremely better." She couldn't help but smile.

"I have a rather extraordinary teacher…" he grinned devilishly and leaned down for a kiss. Leliana welcomed his contact, reaching up to entwine her hands around his neck.

Dorian could feel his body tingle, without thinking he pulled her in closer and deepened the kiss. Leliana sighed as she pulled him closer, allowing their bodies to merge further. Even through both sets of armor, Dorian felt so warm. He was feeling dangerously hot.

_Maker… I will never get used to this…_

"Uh, sorry to disturb you…" a stern voice awkwardly interrupted. "But, the day is getting by, and the others are some ways ahead."

Both Dorian and Leliana jumped apart, short on breath from the kiss and from the fright. The senior mages eyes wandered from the mage then to the bard, a rather serious look on her face.

"Oh, I didn't realize you hadn't left…" Dorian awkwardly rubbed his neck. Leliana gave one last lingering look and headed off to follow the others.

"I had, but I thought I would be polite and wait for you two."

"Err, that thank you." Dorian adjusted his armor and followed after Leliana. The nasty look Wynne had chosen to give him hadn't escaped his notice.

_I wonder what that is all about…_

…

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the group arrived to the city of Denerim. It was something to behold, Dorian had never been to a place quite so large. There was his homeland, Kirkwall, but what he recalled of that city was little to nothing. The streets were buzzing with stalls and people haggling to get a better price. Children played in the streets, holding mock sword fights, throwing various toys, chasing dogs. Speaking of dogs;

"Hey!" Dorian called after his Mabari. "Where are you going?"

The hound quickly returned, a small child in toe. The little boy patted the dog and laughed happily as Spirit licked his hands.

"Uh…. Why did you kidnap a child?" Dorian scratched his head. Spirit let out a happy bark. "No, we can't keep him, better take him home boy." A sad wine. "If he comes with us, he will have to fight darkspawn." A growl answered. "Well then, he can't come… why don't you go play with the other children for a bit. Meet us at the inn later?" Spirit barked in approval and ran off.

"Making friends, everywhere he goes." Alistair chuckled. "What now?"

"How about we take a look around?" Dorian looked to his companions.

"Master Dorian?" Bodan stepped forward, grinning brightly. "Might my boy and I be excused from your company? We wish to peruse the markets wares."

"Certainly." The mage chuckled. "You needn't ask permission. Would you like an escort?"

"No thank you, we should be more than fine. I know an old friend who occupies a stall near here."

"Very well, if you need us we shall be in the inn this evening." Dorian bowed respectfully as Bodan and Sandal lead their caravan through the streets. Sandal waved happily as he passed. "Now then. Wynne, would you be willing to see if you can find anything out about this Brother Genitivi? So far all we know about this man is his address. I'd say the Chantry would be our best bet for information."

"Of course." The mage nodded, but her face was still hard. Dorian couldn't help but wonder what exactly her problem was.

Shale and Sten stood offside, clearly growing annoyed by the attention their presence was causing.

"Shale, Sten, would you accompany me please?"

"What does It want?"

"I need to look for someone," he shrugged, Leliana looked to him grateful. "I just want some back up, might get dangerous."

"Yes, Kadan."

"If It wishes."

Both tried to hide their excitement at prospect of 'danger'. The hustle and bustle of the city was more annoying than worthwhile for the two lethal giants.

"Alright, everyone else feel free to take a look around. Try not to get too separated. Remember, this city won't be too accommodating if they know who we are. We shall meet up at sunset at the cities Inn."

"Tavern, I believe it's a tavern." Zevran grinned. "Which will be where I am heading… actually, might inspect the Pearl…" The elf left with a noticeable spring in his step. Dorian couldn't help but prey he didn't get up to any mischief.

_More than usual, anyway. _

Morrigan rolled her eyes and left, clearly she found this whole trip a mere waste of time. Dorian knew she couldn't wait to leave, for more reasons than boredom. Despite having his mind elsewhere, the mage had not forgotten the promise he had made her.

_Ah yes… Flemeth…_

The day he was to fulfil this promise, would surely be an eventful one. He would need to discuss his concerns with Leliana at some point, her advice would have been more than welcomed. Wynne headed towards the Chantry, but not before casting a worried glance at Leliana. Alistair remained behind, a look of distress noticeable on his face.

"Uh…" he awkwardly rubbed his head.

"I will meet up with you shortly," Dorian lightly chuckled, of course he didn't forget the promise he made to his friend. It was the least he could do to make up for the past few days. "Name a shop and I'll meet you there. Then we can go find your sister." He smiled.

"Alright." Alistair returned the grin. "Hmm… Meet me at the Wonders of Thedas."

With that the large Warden hurried off, rather excited Dorian noted. He made sure to see what direction he went in, Dorian had never been in such a large city before, there was no guarantee he would be able to find his way. He turned his gaze back to his archer companion, her face was frozen as her mind ran with thoughts on what the day would bring.

"Shall we go to the address you were given?" Dorian asked as he approached her. "Whenever you are ready, of course." He added with a slight smile.

"Just, give me a moment." Leliana breathed out, her eyes did not meet his. "I think I shall go and ask someone about the occupants of the house. See if they can match a description with Marjolaine. I would rather not bursting inside, without all the details."

"Of course." Dorian nodded.

"Thank you… for doing this." Leliana finally looked to him. "Just, wait here, please."

Leliana left her companions, but Dorian not once take his eyes of her. He didn't trust the city, something about the place put his teeth on edge. Knowing someone was lurking in the shadows, waiting for her, only seemed to add to his concern.

_Let them try._

Leliana began to converse with a local merchant. The woman was dressed finely in silks, she didn't seem to belong in the market place. He wondered where exactly she hailed from, and why she was selling her wares in a place like Denerim market. No one about the town seemed able to afford what she sold.

Dorian continued to watch as Leliana spoke with the woman, she seemed to act casual and calm. No stranger would suspect what loomed through her mind, what threatened her at that very moment. Undoubtedly, she played the role of the common folk well. How foolish of the people, as if she could be mistaken for anything less than what she was. Dorian's lip curled upward slightly, he couldn't help but admire Leliana. How biased his views had become, but dammed to modesty. She was amazing, so why should he not think it?

"What are you doing?" Sten's voice boomed behind the now startled mage.

"Beg pardon?" he coughed, turning to speak with the Qunari. He made sure to remain watching for Leliana though.

"That, with your face." He pointed a gauntlet-finger to Dorian's mouth. "You do it a lot when the Minstrel is around. Why?"

Nervously, Dorian attempted to change whatever face he was making. He could feel his cheeks redden, he was unsure what the Qunari was speaking of.

"Err, Smile?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "You don't know what that is?"

"Kadan, I am not a fool. I know what smiling is, but that is not what you are doing." He shook his head.

"Uh, what am I doing then?"

"You are smiling, but it is not only with joy. Smiling is supposed to be a sign of happiness, is this the same with humans?"

"Uh, usually."

"You smile, and yet it seems strange. Like you are feeling something different, I wish to know what it is. It only seems to occur around the Minstrel."

"Uh…" Dorian looked awkwardly to Leliana, still engrossed with her discussion. She was completely oblivious to the ordeal her boyfriend was struggling with.

"You look to her with joy, but also with concern. This is what you humans call "Longing" perhaps?"

"I do not stare longingly…" Dorian grumbled.

"You're concerned look can be seen as a sign of weakness. Fear is weakness, one that should be exploited in battle. You should be watchful not to reveal this to your enemies."

"Uh… okay. Duly noted." Dorian was really uncomfortable having this conversation, especially with Sten. A man whom spoke mostly business with Dorian, occasionally they had relaxed moments, but nothing like this.

"It is as if you feel a need to protect her, what is yours. A look of ownership, yes, that must be it."

"Honestly, I do not really understand what you are asking. I do not 'own' Leliana."

"The others think differently." Sten said calmly. "The other Warden and the Painted Elf were discussing something last night. They called it 'love'. My people do not use this word. But, what I have seen of it, we have something similar. It is the certainty of the Qun. I find it disturbing to see it displayed with a single being, but… I am also curious to witness it."

Ignoring everything else the Qunari had to say, Dorian focused on one point. He snapped his head back to the stoic Sten, near seeing red.

"Alistair and Zevran, were talking about us?"

"Yes." He said bluntly. "The elf was making disgusting comments about you and the Minstrel. I only listened enough to hear 'sharing a bedroll' and 'polishing your staff'. I did not realize you made the Minstrel clean your weapons, that is wrong. You should clean your own, trust no one with them." He stroked his sheathed blade.

"He-you-they…._**WHAT**_!?" Dorian felt his hand twitch with an unfriendly burning sensation.

"The other Warden said he thought it was 'adorable'." The Qunari continued, oblivious to Dorian's near explosion. "I thought that was a word your people used when they saw offspring of cats-"

"They were talking about _us_! And they were talking about us, _rudely_!" Sten nodded. "Those little… bastards!" Dorian growled. "Talking about her like that! I'll put itching powder in their armor! I'll melt their swords…I'll…I'll… Grr!" Dorian was nearly tearing his own hair out with embarrassment. "Blighted gossips!"

"This seems to have angered you. Why are you humans so defensive about these sort of conversations?" Sten frowned down to the mage.

"Because… it is impolite… and… I… Maker if I know, I am just… sensitive?" Dorian felt his face burn with embarrassment.

"I do not know that word." Sten shook his head.

"I think it is another meaning for 'squishy'." Shale added smugly. "I already knew It was squishy, I am glad It has realized this also."

"Yes… thank you Shale." Dorian groaned into his hand. Dorian could swear the stone giant was chuckling at him.

He heard oncoming footsteps. Looking up instantly, he noticed Leliana's return. Her face was twisted in a look of concern and agony. It became clear to the mage, news was not what she had hoped for. Dorian instantly forgot Sten's conversation. There was only one priority, Leliana.

"She is here," she said heavily. "The address we were given was correct, she has been staying there for some time now. I was told she has had many visitors, mercenaries I assume from the way they were dressed. Which would explain a lot, since she sent almost several armies for my head…" her eyes gazed into the distance.

"Leliana I…" he wanted to say something, anything to help her. Nothing came to mind.

"Anyway, I was told she has only left her house every now and then to go browse the shops wares. Apparently no one is fond of her stay, she has been quite rude to many people. It is surprising she has been able to stay for as long as she has…" she looked to the house. From the outside anyone would think it was abandoned.

"Are you ready?" Dorian asked calmly.

"Yes…"

With that, the bard led her company towards the rundown shack of a house. Dorian could hear her mumble to herself over Marjolaine spending all her money on assassination attempts.

Standing outside the door, Dorian noticed a snag in their plan.

"Uh Shale…" he looked to the rather large golem. "Do you think you can squeeze through that?"

"It must be joking." She snorted.

"Break it." Leliana said with little emotion. "Break it down."

"Uh, shouldn't we want the element of surprise?" Dorian asked, looking to her slightly nervous.

Leliana approached the door, with one hard boot, the door violently swung open and she barged inside. Surprised, and slightly impressed, Dorian turned to Shale.

"You heard the lady." He shrugged than chased after Leliana. A loud crash echoed through the small front entrance way. Shale and Sten were soon close behind.

"Leliana?" another door opened, and out stepped a well-dressed woman. Her demeanor was overly calm, warm, welcoming.

She spoke in a heavy Orlesian accent, her long black hair hung neatly, shaping her pale makeup covered cheekbones. Though her appearance would have made her appear beautiful, Dorian could see a sinister gleam in her dark eyes. An overwhelming smell of perfume wafted his nostrils. She was not what Dorian expected.

Leliana's hand twitched, ready to reach for her bow at any second. Dorian stepped close to Leliana, making sure if anything were to happen he had her back. Thumping footsteps alerted him his own back was well covered.

"So lovely to see you again my dear!" the woman greeted with near open arms, stepping into the small foyer.

"Spare me the pleasantries! I know you're-" Leliana spoke in a forceful tone, but it did not matter. She was not granted the chance to speak.

"Oh, you must excuse the shabby accommodations." Marjolaine waved off. "I try to be a good host, but you see what I have to work with! This country smells like wet dog everywhere! I cannot get the smell out!" Dorian wished his faithful hound was there to hear that remark, no doubt the beast would have enjoyed causing the woman discomfort.

_Is this woman insane? Or just so self-obsessed? My money is on both!_

"Even now it is in my hair and my clothes! Uh!" Marjolaine shot a disapproving snarl towards her visitors, no doubt disgusted by the unkempt Qunari and completely unsure what to make of the stone Gollum.

_Good. She should fear us! _

"Why did you send assassins to kill Leliana?" Dorian did not speak gently, he spoke with hate in his voice. A hate he was never able to control, a hate now directed at one person. Finally, he had someone to blame for the pain inflicted upon Leliana and himself. Leliana jumped slightly at the sound of his tone but did not falter in her defensive stance.

"So business like, your companion." The woman did not attempt to make eye contact with Dorian, but remained staring confidently at Leliana. This made Dorian's hand burn, her smug nature was sickening. He wanted badly to melt that smile off her wicked face.

"You framed me! Had me caught and tortured!" Leliana spoke in such a broken tone, she tried to remain strong, but as she stood before her betrayer all the years of pain came flooding back. "I thought, that in Ferelden I would be free of you… but it seems I am not!"

Hearing the pain in her voice made Dorian itch to end the traitor's life. Marjolaine did not flinch or look saddened by what Leliana said, she stood smirking confidently. Self-righteous. Dorian wanted her dead, more than anything in the world, at that moment he desired to see the sight of her blood.

_I wonder what colour she bleeds. She acts of nobility, let's see if it's blue._

He clenched his hands, a sinister smirk formed on his lips. It was disturbing how much he was enjoying the idea of revenge, even if it was not his own to take. He knew Leliana needed her dead, she needed to be free from the nightmare of her past life.

"What happened to make you hate me so…?" Leliana's voice cracked. "Why do you want me dead so badly?"

"Dead?" a tone of both shock and amusement. Marjolaine put on a dammed good show, but it was not fooling anyone. "Nonsense! I know you, _**my**_ Leliana. My _**Pretty Thing**_." She looked at Dorian when she called ownership towards his companion. Dorian felt a snarl grow inside his throat. "I know what you are capable of. Four, five men, you can dispatch easily! They were sent to give you cause to come to me. And see? Here you are." the woman waved her arms dramatically.

"Four or five men?" Dorian snapped. "You sent an Orlesian Armada!"

"Leliana, you seem to be travelling in delusional company." She sneered. "I know not what he speaks of."

_How is it possible for her to be more sinister than a bleeding darkspawn? _

"We don't believe you!" Dorian released the vulgar snarl he held inside. Sten seemed to grunt in approval at his animalistic nature. Leliana stiffened noticeably with Dorian's mood swing.

"You are so transparent! What are you up to Marjolaine?" Leliana attempted to remain harsh, but she was skeptical of the situation. Nothing was certain, only that she was in danger. "Why are you in Ferelden?"

"In truth?" the serpent of a woman sighed. "You have knowledge you can use against me, for my own safety I cannot let you be!"

_That's it._

Dorian placed his hand swiftly on his sheathed sword, those words were all he needed to be certain what he had to do. It was either Marjolaine or Leliana, it would always be this way. Before he had a chance to draw his weapon though, Leliana brushed her hand against his. They exchanged looks. She needed to hear this, he had to let it be. For now. Marjolaine noticed the interaction and raised an eyebrow, her smirk intensified.

"Did you think, I did not know where you were?" she continued, as if never disturbed. "Did you think I would not watch _**my**_ pretty little Leliana?" another smirk aimed at Dorian. "What is she up to, I thought. The quiet life, the peasant clothes, hair ragged and messy… like a boy…"

_Is she really insulting her, so pettily? She honestly thinks she can say these things to her! Or about her!_

"Eh, this is not her! You were planning something, I told myself. So, I watched! But, no letters were sent, no messengers, you barely spoke to anyone! Clever Leliana, very clever!"

The woman made a complete change in her demeanor. Something shifted inside her, the thrill of outwitting her opponent. Her eyes grew, they seemed more the belongings of a beast than a woman.

"You almost had me fooled! But then, you left the Chantry so suddenly. What conclusion should I draw? You tell me!"

"You think I left, because of you? You think I still have some plan for… revenge?" Leliana asked, shocked.

_Revenge sounds nice about now… _

"You are insane, paranoid!" Leliana no longer looked sad, broken or even hurt. Now she was mad, and even pitied her once ally.

"Not everything is about you, Marjolaine!" Dorian could not help himself. A smug grin peeped through his lips. "Leliana is trying to do something good. Something pure. Something you wouldn't understand." Leliana's eyes danced on him for a brief second.

"Oh ho!" Dorian's comment clearly struck a nerve with the self-obsessed woman. "Is that what you think? If I were you, I would believe nothing she says! Not a one! I know my pretty thing, and I know the lies she can tell."

Dorian returned to snarling, he did not want to hear this from her. Nor did he believe it. Marjolaine knew what she said was hitting him hard, it pleased her. She was playing him like an overstrung lute.

"She will use you. You look at her and you see a single girl, a friend, trusting and warm. It is an act!"

_Can I kill you now? Please!_

"You think you are special? You think she actually cares about you?" Marjolaine began to strut slightly in his direction, each step abundant with pride. "Everything she has ever said to you, she has said to another man. Every glance, every smile, all just part of her game. A game… we used to play _**together.**_"

Dorian did not want to hear her, but the words she spoke were thoughts he had wondered not all that long ago. When Leliana revealed her past, it had plagued his heart for some time. No, this devil woman was playing him. Whispering poison into his ear, like a treacherous demon. She was trying to use his concern as a tool. He would not allow it.

"How dare you!" Leliana shouted, hate dripping from her voice. "I am not you Marjolaine! I left because I did not want to become you!"

"Oh, but you are me. You cannot escape it! No one will understand you the way I do…" once again she flashed a smirk at Dorian, confirming her words dripped with double meaning. "Because, we are one and the same! Do you know why you were a master manipulator, Leliana? It is because you enjoy the game! You reveled in the power it gave you! You cannot change, or deny this!"

"I trust Leliana! No matter what you say!" he meant it, even if in the end what they shared was a game, he would never stop believing in her.

He would go to the fade and back, if it was her wish. Dorian had been raised to suppress the temptation of life, the promises of demons. And yet, how easily he had fallen for Leliana. Did she understand how much power she held over him? Leliana looked at him, her eyes warm. Perhaps she did.

"I know who Leliana is, and she is nothing like you say!" This, he said with all his dedication.

"Thank you…" She then turned back to her betrayer. "You will not threaten me, or my friends again Marjolaine! I want you out of my life, forever!"

A large catlike grin crossed Marjolaine lips. She was certain she had won, Leliana would let her live, it was in her nature. Marjolaine knew this from the start. She had planned this, she was never going to let Leliana live. This was a test, to see if revenge would ever befall her.

_No. I cannot let her do this! She may hate me… but I have to help her, she has to be safe. _

"Leliana, she will hound you for as long as she lives." He spoke to the pained bard. "Look at her, even know she gloats her victory. She will hunt you down again and again, we have seen what she is capable of."

Leliana looked to Marjolaine, then back to Dorian. Her eyes strained, brow furrowed. She was looking on her past, and to her future. She had to choose. A means to an end.

"You have to stop her. You have to protect yourself." He pleaded.

"Bah, you think you know her." Marjolaine snorted. "You think she will listen to you? She will do nothing, you know why? Because she is _**mine**_."

With those words, Leliana glared at the devil woman. A decision had been made. She chose freedom.

"You've caused too much pain for too many, Marjolaine…" she spoke bluntly to the woman. "It ends here."

Marjolaine's eyes widened. She glared to Dorian, then back at Leliana. A fiery hate burned in her dark eyes, a hate Dorian reflected.

"And you think you can kill me, just like that?" she near laughed. "I made you Leliana! I can destroy you just as easily!"

Swiftly, the woman backed away. With a loud crash, several of the house's doors swung open and the room filled with Marjolaine's bodyguards. Shale and Sten went into battle without hesitation, targeting the few armed Qunari Marjolaine hired. Dorian covered Leliana, taking out two slow apostates which hid in the background. Clearly untrained in the arts, they were no match for Dorian.

It didn't take long before Marjolaine was the last one standing. Backed against a wall, the woman glared at Leliana. The sly woman opened her mouth to say something, but was never given the chance. Within a second, an arrow landed forcefully into her chest. Blackened blood spread across the fine silken dress. Her skin paled, and her eyes turned an eerie shade of white. She fell to the ground with a heavy thud. A perfect reenactment of the fate she hoped would befall Leliana. Only this time, none would come to this victim's aid. Whatever lie the Marjolaine had prepared, was never to be heard.

"It's over…" Leliana near gasped.

Leliana stood looking down on the body of her former master, her former lover.

"She's dead…" she breathed. "She's dead, because of me…"

"Leliana…" he reached out for her, but she stepped away.

"I… I need some time to myself…" she face away from the scene. "I'm sure she brought things of value, you should take them to sell…"

"Leliana, please wait…" he tried to reach out to her.

"We… we will talk later…" with that, she left the house.

Dorian stared after her. Had he done the right thing? Or had he only caused her more grief.

"What would you have us do, Kadan?" Sten spoke down to his leader, in a tone that could have been mistaken for concern.

"Can you handle looting their bodies?" Dorian looked down to the fallen Qunari.

"They are Tal' Vashoth. They are no kin of mine."

"Very well, take everything you can of value." Dorian sighed as he rubbed his brow. "Please excuse me, I shall see you both later. Thank you for helping."

"Will the Sister be alright?" Shale asked as she removed her foot from one of the apostate's bodies. "I care not… it's just… uh…"

"I don't know Shale… I don't know." Dorian headed out of the house. "If I see Zevran, I'll send him to come and help."

"Very well Kadan."

Dorian left the house and stared out onto the busy street. People went about their business, to them nothing odd had occurred. Their lives could continue unchanged by Dorian's actions, they could go about not knowing the pain of losing a friend. Of losing their past love. Of losing their past...

Leliana, was not granted that luxury. And it was Dorian's doing.

_Did I do the right thing…?_

**A/N:**

**Wow! Chapter twenty, never thought I would make it this far :D Thanks to everyone for reading and giving the awesome feedback. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter, the next one shouldn't take too long to post :)**


	21. A Good Heart

_Chapter Twenty One: A Good Heart_

"Well that was… not what I expected…" Alistair sighed as he slumped against the stone building. "To put it lightly…"

"You're telling me." Dorian scratched the back of his neck. This day just kept getting better and better. "Although, I have to say it went better than what my family get together would be like." The mage tried to put on a brave face.

Alistair stared off into the distance, lost in the painful realization. Dorian wasn't certain, but he could have sworn the blonde man's eyes had watered.

_Ah geez… poor Alistair…_

Dorian sighed and came to stand beside his friend. When Alistair had approached him days ago to seek out the Warden's supposed sister, this outcome was not what either had expected. In truth, Dorian knew it was asking too much to hope the woman simply accepted Alistair as family and welcomed him with open arms, but how she acted…

"I am sorry Alistair…" he turned to his friend. "You shouldn't have had to put up with that…"

"I'll live up to my promise, I suppose. But… is this the family I've been wondering about all my life? I can't believe it…" he muttered to himself, not believing his own eyes.

Dorian placed his coin purse back inside his pocket. He felt a slight bit of annoyance at the fact he had given the woman as much as Alistair requested, especially since she scoffed the generosity. Then, Alistair went on to promise more. He had only just met the woman, and already he was bending over backwards for her. Alistair was a kind man, but the world wasn't kind. Someday, his kindness would be his downfall.

"I…I guess I was just expecting her to accept me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do?" Alistair near laughed at the painful thought. "Suppose I wouldn't know what family is meant to be like… would I? I feel… like such a complete idiot…"

"I… I am sorry, Alistair." Dorian sighed. "But, the world doesn't always work out like that…"

"What…what do you mean?" the tall man looked down to his friend. His eyes confirmed what Dorian had suspected.

"Sometimes, people only care about themselves." Dorian shrugged. "In this world, the strong survive and the kind get trampled on."

"You're wrong." Alistair shook his head. "We've met people, good people. We've helped them, and they have done the same."

"And at what cost? What have we gained from them, or they from us?" The mage sighed. "I learnt a long time that people tend to only care about themselves. The sooner we realize this, the better we will be."

"But… you are a god person. You help others… You care about others." Alistair's frown deepened.

"Do I? Or do I simply cause more harm than good? Perhaps I only do what I do… for my own gain." Dorian frowned and stared over to a rundown house, the house this very afternoon was occupied by an Orlesian woman. "Everyone… is out for themselves…"

"Do you think Leliana is this way?" Alistair near shouted. "No. Because she is a good person. We all are, in our own way."

"At least Leliana isn't foolish enough to hand over half the gold reserve to a woman she just met." Dorian snapped. After everything he was in no mood to speak on Leliana. Alistair's eyes widened as the truth slapped him. Dorian felt the words bitter taste as the left his mouth. "Alistair, I…"

"No. You're right." He sighed. "You're right… I suppose it is time I realized this… all of it. I-I have to go. I don't want to talk about this anymore." He stepped off the wall with a heavy sigh.

"Alistair, wait-"

"I'll see you later… I'll go order us some rooms at the tavern. Thanks for coming with me…"

With that, the broken man headed off. Dorian smacked his head backwards onto the wall. Stupid, he thought. He let his own bitterness possibly ruin a good man's heart. Alistair wasn't foolish, he was just too kind for his own good. Another thump against the wall, that's two lives he's ruined today.

_Does someone want to join me? We can make it three?_

"You know, my friend, these buildings are not all that stable." An Antivan voice rang beside him. "And another hearty smack like that, the whole structure may crumble."

"Not now, Zevran." Dorian sighed as he clenched his eyes firmly shut.

"I apologise for disturbing you, I just wanted to make sure you were alright." The elf came to stand in front of his taller friend. "Also, I have finished assisting our giant friends in 'tidying' the mess in the house over there."

"Find anything worthwhile." Dorian was not entirely interested.

"Some bits and pieces that would fetch a fine price in the markets, which is where I am heading now. But, I wanted to double check something with you before I sold it."

"I don't want anything from that bleeding woman." The mage near growled.

"Ah, well… it isn't entirely for you." Zevran awkwardly fished in the large sack by his side. "It was for Leliana…" he pulled forth what appeared to be a long bow of great quality. Dorian's eyes shot open at the mention of Leliana.

"How do you know it was for her?"

"Well, I am not entirely sure, but it was found in a chest with the woman's fine clothes… I noticed something was carved into the bows handle. Apart from that mark, it would have been priceless."

Dorian took the bow and studied its make, Zevran was right, the bow was magnificent. And no doubt would have cost a fortune to make. He spied the small mark carved proudly into the handle, an elegant L. It was not professionally done, someone had taken a knife and carved it themselves.

"One guess what it stands for…" Dorian near chuckled as he somewhat recognized the style of the lettering. "This did belong to her." He couldn't help but smile as remembered receiving a note along with a present from Leliana, in which she signed with the same L.

"I thought as much." Zevran nodded. "Would you like me to bring it to her?"

"No, I will." Dorian sighed as he awkwardly flung the bow across his back. "Did it have a quiver?"

"It did, I can carry that for you if you prefer." He smirked at the awkward display before him. "You seem to have your hands full."

"Err, thanks." Dorian chuckled as he tried to realign the string. "Don't know how she carries these things constantly."

"I prefer daggers myself." the elf grinned. "Well, I shall go and bargain for the best prices. I walked past an Antivan stall earlier today, which I am certain would find these rather worthwhile."

"Thank you Zevran." Dorian bowed his head. "I appreciate this."

"Pfft, I do not do this for you dear Warden." He winked. "I am merely in it for my cut of the profits, which I intend to spend at the fruitful Pearl. If you are interested, I could shout you an evening there?" he said followed by another cheeky wink.

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't drink." Dorian waved his hand with a grateful smile.

"Oh, I wouldn't drink the swill they offer. I go for the other worldly pleasures." A third wink was granted.

"The other…?" Dorian paused for a moment, studying the elf's wiggling eyebrows. "Oh!"

"Ahah, he gets it." Zevran near burst with laughter. Dorian went pink all over.

"Then I _definitely_ recline."

"Such a shame, I have a friend who is currently occupying the place. She would have loved you." The elf slung the pack over his shoulders and left the mage to his blushing, Zevran's laugh could have been heard from the Chantry.

Again, Dorian was left alone. He glanced sideways to the bow strung to his shoulder, no doubt this would be something that would cause problems. Still, it had to be done. If only he knew where Leliana had gone.

The mage looked up to the sky and noticed how quickly the day had gotten past him. He hadn't even had the chance to do what he originally had come to Denerim for. There was still the matter of this Brother Genetivi at hand, and the fabled Ashes he was apparently now searching for.

_Maker, I'm a bloody glorified errand boy._

Damn it, he thought. He would be selfish and allow a few moments to himself, something he found incredibly hard to do as of late. He had allowed the others time to shop for their required supplies, and so he would do the same. Besides, he needed to wait for Wynne with her information before attempting to even approach this Genetivi.

Awkwardly, Dorian walked back to the direction where he originally met Alistair. He clung to his pack as well as the new addition to his belongings and tried to walk tall and proud. The people about town had grown curious of the newcomer, he didn't need to be harassed. Well, again. On his way to find his fellow Warden, a shady man approached him about being in 'business'.

_Business, bah. Petty thievery is not something I stand for._

Gladly Dorian sent that man on his way. So many crooks about this town, it was practically a gathering of lowlifes.

Finally he reached the shop he had become rather curious over. The Wonders of Thedas was a shop someone like Dorian could only ever dream about. As soon as he stepped into the enormous book shop his eyes grew twice their size and his mouth near watered. Alas, Alistair had dragged him away a second later. Not this time though. No, the mage would sit and read and not be disturbed.

_Or I shall set their shoes on fire! _

He chuckled as he stepped inside the shop. He was welcomed by a pleasant chiming bell, alerting others of his arrival. The shop keep was someone Dorian found most interesting, unlike the shops he visited in his travels for supplies, this one was run by a Tranquil. Someone he didn't think to see outside the Circle.

_Well, there was the one helping at Ostagar… I hope he made it out before the battle._

"Good day." The Tranquil said as he swept by the door. "Can I help you?"

"Good day." Dorian smiled, unlike most people he treated Tranquil mages with the utmost respect. And why wouldn't he? They were part of who he was. "I require everything on this list." He pulled his usual ingredients list from his pocket.

"Of course." The Tranquil spoke in his monotone, stopping momentarily from his task to study the note. "These ingredients are unusual, not what common travellers would purchase."

"Uh, no." Dorian visibly gulped. He forgot how smart Tranquil were, and where their loyalties lay. The shop keep paused a moment, as if he was actually thinking on something. His face however, remained dangerously neutral.

"They should not be hard to acquire." His tone did not change as he properly took the note. "I will have this order filled shortly. Would you like it delivered?"

"No, thank you." Dorian bowed his head. "I think I would like to stay here and have a look around, if that is alright?"

"Of course." The Tranquil said, as if nothing was amiss. "I shall return once I have everything you require. Good Day." With that, he left.

Dorian audibly let out a loud breath of relief. Fooling a Templar was an easy task, well, most occasions. The older ones were harder, their senses were finely tuned to magic. Often on their travels Morrigan was forced to use some of her more unfriendly spells in order to slip past Templar enquires. But fooling a Tranquil, that was something entirely different. Though they were cut off from the Fade and magic, something about them allowed their minds to be aware of another mages presence. Obviously the Chantry's cruel idea of creating 'watch dogs'.

_I'm not sure this fellow was exactly 'fooled'. He didn't question me at all. How odd…_

Pushing the thoughts aside, Dorian went and began browsing the shops book shelves. He had never seen so many books, well, not since leaving the Tower. This would have once been his idea of Heaven. Eventually he found a rather interesting book. A romance by the looks of it, and of Nevarran origins, judging by the title. Dorian was a bit of a sap when it came to books like this.

"_The dark haired elven beauty went about her mindless tasks. Oh, how she dreamed of a life of excitement. Of days filled with treasure and nights filled with passion. But what adventures would she ever have? Slaves were never permitted a chance to dream…" _

Dorian read on, he liked reading stories about slaves escaping to their freedom, thwarting their masters. He read quickly, hoping to reach something worthwhile sooner rather than later.

_The author of this novel certainly wanted to give a rather thorough backstory. _

Unlike most people, he grew accustomed to reading rather quickly. A talent he found most useful when studying in his classes. He was beginning to see the quality of the novel was not quite what he hoped.

"_Never in her steamiest of dreams had she ever imagined a man quite like… Roberto… No, how could she think this way. He was a married man, and worst of all, the man who held her chains."_

"Oh sweet Maker." He chuckled quietly to himself at the pure cheesiness of the novel. Obviously this was not the story he had assumed. Still, he continued.

"…_he pulled against her tunic with his calloused yet nimble fingers. His blonde hair flicked deliciously in the warm breeze. _

'_Oh Roberto…' she sighed against his hands. 'We shouldn't be doing this...'_

_With a swift step, he swooped the elegant woman into his toned arms. His thin moustache wiggled as he puckered his lips. Oh how that moustache made her toes curl. So sexy, so manly…"_

"What the actual Void?" Dorian scratched his head. "Who reads this rubbish?"

"…_so quickly her clothes fell, leaving her bare skin tickled with the sun's rays. What the scandal, she thought, if the other servants caught them. Or worse, his wife._

'_Do not tell me… you do not want this…?' Roberto purred into her ears. His lips curled up into a cunning grin, he knew very well she had dreamed of this moment for so long…"_

"Err… this is not at all what I was wanting to… oh…" he continued to read, cheeks reddening as the words continued to paint a rather odd image. "Wait… what's an Antivan Milk Sandwich? Oh… Sweet Andraste's Merciful End!"

He pulled his face closer to the pages, trying to understand what in the Fade he was reading. None of what was being described seemed at all enjoyable.

"Good book?" a sweet accented voice came from beside the focused mage. Dorian jumped nearly through the roof with fright, his face almost on fire with embarrassment.

"Leliana…I... This… um…" he violently slammed the book and almost thrust it from his sight. Shit, he thought repetitively.

"From that reaction, I would say the answer is yes?" she chuckled and grabbed the book from the table and studied the cover. "Hmmm… 'Slave to Love'? I hadn't picked this would be your type of book." She tried hard to mask her humour.

"I…it isn't… I didn't…" the mage tried with all his might to melt away into his seat. This was just a tad awkward.

"Not my cup of tea." She turned and placed the book back on its shelf, then returned with a new one. "Here, this is more you're taste."

"Uh…" he awkwardly took the book and studied the cover. "I wasn't actually wanting to read… 'The Bard's song'?" He blushed even further when he looked up to see a rather smug grin spread across Leliana's face.

"That's one of my absolute favourites." She grinned. "It is tasteful, romantic and saucy. Unlike what you just endured." She snickered. "But still, books are never portrayed quite as accurate… or as enjoyable…"

"Uh, thanks." He placed the book down. "I don't think these novels…. Well, let's just say I'll stick to a good old fashioned adventure novel, any day."

"Typical male." Leliana chuckled as she took a seat beside her friend. "How did Alistair go with meeting his sister?"

"Not what he hoped for." Dorian sighed and leaned forward on the table. "She… well, let's just say she wasn't very 'sisterly'."

"I am sorry to hear that." Leliana shook her head. "How is he taking it?"

"I can't honestly say I know." Dorian shook his head. "Not that I helped matters much. Pretty much called him an idiot for wanting to be loved… Like the bloody bastard I am."

"Why did you do that?" she frowned. "That doesn't seem at all like you."

"I pretty much told him never to trust anyone, because everyone only cares about themselves. That he shouldn't be so keen to help others out, when not everyone will do the same…" he sighed and with one hand pinched the bridge of his nose.

Leliana sat silently for a moment. Her eyes would wander from Dorian to the table as she registered what he said. Dorian watched her from the corner of his eyes, he was certain he knew what she was thinking.

"Do… do you honestly think that?" she finally said.

"Sometimes, yeah."

"Do you think that way… about me?" Her eyes hardened. "That I shouldn't be trusted… I understand if you do… after everything that happened."

Dorian pulled his chair forward so his hands could meet with hers. She attempted to pull away, but eventually his grip got the better of her. He tried to smile reassuringly to her.

"No, I do not think I shouldn't trust you. I have_ always_ trusted you." He stroked her clenched knuckles. "I thought you would have realized this by now."

"I thought that might have changed… after today." She looked away. "After everything Marjolaine said."

"Funny, when I said no one should be trusted, you were not who came to mind. I thought about people like… like Marjolaine. And people like me."

"You?" she snapped her head to meet with his gaze. "What about you?"

"I made you do something terrible today… I made you choose between who you were… and me." He pulled his hands away. "And as far as what she said about you and I, I wouldn't believe a woman who's every word was contradictory to the last."

"You didn't-" she tried to speak, but he cut her off.

"And how could I listen to her, she tried to have you killed. And bloody openly lied about it. I would be lying myself if for a second those words didn't sting, but I would never choose anyone over you."

"You didn't make me chose anything!" she finally snapped, pulling her hands free from his grip. Dorian very rarely heard the calm woman raise her voice. He looked to her with concern. "You didn't make me chose anything." She repeated, only calmer.

"But… you were going to let her go… and I intervened." He shook his head. "And now… you regret our actions, I know you do. I can see it in your eyes."

"I am fine…" she turned her head away from his eyes. "I made my own choice."

"Still-"

"I would rather not talk about this…"

"I think you should." He frowned.

"I said I am fine." She crossed her arms in protest.

"You are a poor liar." He tried not to grin.

"Am I now?" she raised an eyebrow, angered by his assumption. "A skilful bard, trained in the arts of deceit. How are you so certain you even know who I am exactly? How are you certain what she said isn't the truth? That I am not simply playing a game. I know you have wondered if what I say is true, I can tell."

He shook he head in near anger, after all this time and she still questioned just how loyal he was to her. After all they had been through, and she still denied he even knew who she was.

"Unlike that woman, I will not claim I _know_ you." He sighed finally. "I will learn from her mistakes. You are your own person, as I have seen. You are Leliana. A bard, a rogue, an archer, a warrior woman, a kind and gentle friend, a story teller, and a warm hearted woman. You are so much, it is hard to say one knows you entirely. Only you know who you are. You were the one who taught me this lesson." He smiled. "What I do know though… is how much I respect you."

"You…" she slumped back, speechless in defeat.

"Please, just… talk to me." He leaned forward. After a moment of staring at her hands, she finally looked up to meet his eyes.

"I can't get what happened out of my head…." She almost laughed at the stupidity of it all. "I had been in Lothering for years, and she still thought I was plotting against her."

She paused, as it all came waving back. All the hate, all the regret, all the wondering if she was still being watched. Turns out her suspicions had always been correct. She was never truly free.

"She didn't trust me, maybe she never did." She finally said. "She loved me when she could use me and control me, and when she could no longer do that… she wanted me dead." Her voice cracked.

Dorian wanted badly to reach out, to comfort her. Her face hardened with pain at all the memories. He dared not disturb her. Though he wanted to help, Leliana was not a woman who needed to be coddled. She was strong, stronger than anyone he had ever known.

_She never deserved you, Leliana… _

"It… it hurts, to realize that I never really knew her." Her eyes finally met his. "It's like you said, only you can know yourself."

"I am… I am sorry." He spoke, unsure of his words. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

_Stupid! _

'_Is there anything I can do to help?' you are an idiot!_

This was all so new to him. He wasn't certain what he should do to comfort the woman he loved so very much. Suddenly, her cold eyes warmed, even if it was only slightly. A slight loving smile touched her lips.

"You are already helping so much by listening to me." Though Dorian was certain he was being hopeless, her words gave him some reassurance. "I knew she was ruthless, but I didn't know how far she could go. She was self-serving, cruel! She used people, then discarded them, but that is how she survived in the life she lead." Leliana went rigid with a sudden realization. "Wh-what if she's right? What if we're the same? I… I should have just stayed in the Chantry…"

Her words brought pain to Dorian. And also hate, hate towards a woman who though she was gone, was still bringing agony to Leliana. And now, she was taking away the only thing Leliana held dear and was certain of. Marjolaine was killing her faith, her peace.

"You said the Maker wanted you to leave." He shook he head, he would not allow her to throw away the only thing that gave her certainty. "He gave you the vision, a purpose."

"I could have been wrong about the Maker!" she threw her hands up in protest. "I… know you doubt me sometimes! Maybe, maybe you are right! Maybe…maybe I just tell myself he's there to console myself! To know there's someone out there watching over me, to know I'm not alone!"

"Hey!" he quickly and firmly grabbed her hands and held them tenderly. "You are _**not **_alone. Regardless of my faith, I do believe in _**you**_."

"But I was... I was alone, and desperate when I fled to Ferelden." She refused to meet his gaze. "I went to the only place I knew would take me! I forgot my life as a Bard when I was in the Cloister, I felt safe. I didn't have to watch my back all the time." She met his gaze with such pain and sorrow. "That's what made Marjolaine the way she is! Don't you see? It ruined her, it will ruin me too!"

"Don't say that…" he tried to soothe as she grew more and more upset with each passing word.

"It's already happened! Maker don't you see?" tears swelled in her eyes. "When I killed her I… I enjoyed it. Seeing her dead gave me satisfaction."

"Because of her you endured horrors no one should ever face!" Dorian frowned and shook his head furiously. "She took so much from you, and it still wasn't enough. She would have killed you, Leliana."

"But that is no reason to rejoice over her death. That is what she would do." Her tears finally escaped. "I don't want that. What we're doing… what we've done… hunted men down, killed them. Part of me, loves it. It invigorates me, and this scares me… I feel myself slipping…" the desperation in her voice was breaking Dorian. He felt the bitter emptiness he felt upon her silence return, hearing her broken and heavy sobs was killing him.

"No." he shook his head. "You are a good person, Leliana, do you hear me. How many times must you hear this, before you truly believe it?"

"How can you be so sure?" she sniffled desperately. "Maybe I question myself, because I know it is a lie. All of it. You said so yourself… people are only out to help themselves."

"I was an idiot to say that." He shook his head. "I was angry, confused. Not everyone is like that, you and Alistair have taught me this."

"Maybe… we are all wrong." She breathed heavily as her tears got the better of her.

He stopped for a moment, trying to think of something that would put her mind at ease.

"Evil…" he finally said. "Doesn't worry about not being good…" he gently smiled at her. "You, taught me that."

She paused, her mouth moved as she tried to think of a defence argument. Her eyes wandered from his to fall on the still prominent mark carved proudly above his eye. A scar, which carried his ultimate lesson. The world could be cruel and unkind, but he didn't have to be that way. He continued to smile, she knew exactly what he was trying to say. It was her own reassuring words that taught him of the goodness he held buried within his own heart.

"How can you question who you are, when the kindness in your heart has touched so many." He pulled her hands up to touch his scar. "Whether you are a sister of the Chantry, or a clever Bard of Orlais, you are still a good person. I know this much."

"That…" her shoulders lowered in assumed defeat. "I guess what you say is true…"

"Devilishly handsome, great hair, and a wise man… aren't I the catch." He winked playfully, hoping to lighten the mood. She chuckled as she released her hand and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Maker, I truly have corrupted you." She smiled. "I can always trust you to show me things from a different perspective… Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He kissed the remaining hand he claimed.

"I-I would like to be alone for now." She sighed as her breathing steadied. "I have many things to consider. Thank you, for listening to me."

Dorian, after spotting the Tranquil shop keep had returned, decided he would be the one to leave. He stood up, and gently planted a kiss on Leliana's forehead. He nearly chuckled at how easy the contact had become, he didn't need to consider it anymore, it felt so natural.

"Any time." He smiled down at her. "Before I go, I have to give you something…" he hesitated, could this only add to her stress.

"What is it?" she looked up.

Dorian headed around the table to where he placed his pack and the bow. Cautiously, he picked it up and lifted it into her view. Her eyes visibly grew wider.

"Where… where did you get that?" she gasped as he handed it to her.

"Zevran found it when he was… well, he found it in a chest." Dorian watched with worry as Leliana studied the magnificent bow. "He speculated it belonged to you… I noticed the letter… I recognised it as your own hand." He rubbed his neck, silently praying his actions would be taken with kindness.

"You… you were both correct." Leliana seemed to stroke the bow. "This, was given to me as a child. Lady Cecilie gave it to me, when I was very little. I had taken such care of it, accept for this little mark." She chuckled as she pointed to the initial. "It was so dear to me, I wanted the world to know it was mine. Cecilie scolded me for not having it professionally marked…"

"How did Marj-err…how did you lose its possession?" Dorian leaned against the table.

"Marjolaine stole it from me, the day I was taken captive. So many years… I had completely forgotten about it. I wonder why she kept it…" her eyes grew heavy with thought.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to cause you more grief." Dorian cursed his insensitivity and timing.

"No, don't be." She shook her head. "Thank you, thank you for returning it to me."

"Don't mention it." He smiled slightly.

With one final longing glance, he turned and headed towards the Tranquil man who stood to attention by the counter. Anyone else would have felt rather off put by the show Leliana and Dorian made, but luckily Tranquil have no worries towards such acts.

"I have gathered everything you need." He said in his bland tone. "Some of the roots you requested were hard to acquire. Sadly, they are rare and not common to come by. But, I found some in my stocks, regardless."

"Thank you." He humbly nodded. "Here is something extra, to help restock the shelves."

Dorian handed over a seemingly large coin purse, far too much for simple roots and herbs. But, he was beyond grateful to finally have the ingredients he needed. At long last, he would be able to create the salve for everyone's armour. He was beyond curious over its ability when he read it in Avernus's journal. A way to protect one's self from darkspawn taint, such a thing was unheard of.

"You are too kind." The mans glazed over eyes fell on the coin purse on the counter. "I hope your potion or salve is a success."

Dorian stared wide eyed at the man. So it was obvious to him that Dorian was a mage. Would this become a problem, he wondered. As if sensing his distress, the shop keep looked up.

"Do not worry, I am a shop owner. Business is business." He said, then turned to leave. "Thank you, feel free to come again."

Dorian stared after the Tranquil. How very, extremely, odd. But, not a man to look a gift horse in the mouth, he decided he would take his supplies and leave. And quickly. As he headed for the door, he turned his head and noticed Leliana still remained at the table. Her head bowed, in what he assumed was a prayer. Her bow laid out before her. He sighed, hopefully she would feel somewhat at ease now.

_It doesn't matter who she was, or at least who she thinks she was. All I know… is she has a great heart. Just like Alistair… which reminds me…_

He sighed, that was someone he needed to go find. He definitely needed to apologise for being a large ass. Hopefully the others had gathered at the tavern. He stepped outside the door and listened to the friendly chime ring beside his head. As he entered the busy street, a rather unfriendly noise reached his notice.

He could hear shouting coming from near a small vendor. Curious, Dorian looked over to the small gathering of angry shoppers. No guards had intervened, instead a rather large and stoic man stood the centre of the rabble…

_Oh sweet Maker's disciples! _

Dorian ran at full speed towards the crowd. This, was no doubt going to be eventful. As if his day wasn't insane enough.

"Parshaara woman. Your voice irritates me." Sten snorted down to the townspeople.

"You filthy oxmen!" she shouted back. "I should tell the Templars about you! Since the guards haven't the balls to come and deal with you themselves."

_ .shit. _

_Sten I will kill you!_

Dorian tried to push through the curious mob. They all seemed either amused or intrigued by the performance before them. Sten began to chant something in his native tongue, Dorian no doubt assumed he was swearing at the middle-aged woman. Probably something very unpleasant.

"He's cursing me!" she screeched. "You all saw it! He is cursing at me!"

"You fat Qalaba, I am not a Saarebas." Sten shook his head at the stupidity.

"What did you call me you heathen!?"

"What seems to be the problem here?" Dorian finally squeezed past the curious onlookers. He instantly tried to mask his concern with his usually friendly demeanour.

"That…. That… horned demon stole from my child!" the woman huffed. "I demand retribution!"

"He… what?" Dorian looked to Sten with a face that clearly shouted 'What the Void?'

"He did!" she nodded, lips pouted. "My poor little baby came running up to me in tears, said some bison stole his sweets!"

"Sweets?" one of the crowd members shouted. "You're screaming bloody murder over some bloody sweets? You know that oxman could rip your spine out and beat the rest of us with it, for looking at him funny-like?"

_Vivid image…_

"My friend is not a thief." Dorian reassured. "And, he isn't the violent sort." He lied. "He would never do something so ghastly."

"It sounds like an interesting notion." Sten almost smirked at the idea. Dorian shot him a look which this time translated as 'Shut up!'

"Are you calling me a liar?" the woman pointed up to the somewhat sweating mage. Dorian looked over towards the Chantry and noticed several Templars were growing curious with the sight. This needed to end, and fast.

"No madam, I am most certainly not." He bowed humbly. He cringed, if the others saw this he would never hear the end of it. "What I am merely stating, is who is to say my companion here took them? I have seen a few other Qunari around these parts, shifty mercenary types as well. Unlike my friend here, who is a humble merchant."

"I am not." Sten growled.

"I saw him leave the scene of the crime!" the woman protested. "I saw him eat them as well."

"Sten, is this true?" the mage turned to his friend, certain they would die, over baked goods.

"Yes. Her child was fat, I was saving it from death."

_Damn you and your bluntness Sten!_

The woman looked near ready to burst a blood vessel. Dorian wasn't a man for lying, in fact he detested the idea, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Forgive him madam, this is his second language." He lied shamelessly. "What he means is… he suspected them to be poisoned, and was therefore saving your child by eating them himself."

"That is not what I meant at all." The Qunari shook his head. "Her spawn was fat, as she is. I was saving him, but not from poisoned food."

"Sten, shut _**up**_." Dorian hissed to the Qunari, all the while fishing out some coins. "Here madam, to buy some new ones, and a little for yourself."

"I will not be bribed! I expect retribution!" the woman still pocketed the coins.

"Lady, you are insane!" another member of the audience near laughed. "Just shut up and move along. Your little shit of a kid causes more trouble than he's worth. Leave these good travellers alone."

Dorian looked over to notice the intervention was made by a dwarf, he wore an apron and carried a small sword sheathed to his side. He didn't look like a traveller, nor a merchant.

"How dare you, you filthy little dirt dweller!"

The crowd began to disband, apparently they grew either bored or weary with the woman's rants.

"These travellers have given this town more profit within their short visit then you and your family have done in months! In fact, I caught your child stealing from my stall just this morning. Should I report that to the guards?"

The woman glared down to the dwarf, then mumbled some hateful comment and took her leave. But not before casting a nasty glance at Dorian and Sten.

"Thank you for that." Dorian let out a breath of relief as he turned to his saviour.

"Don't mention it." The dwarf chuckled. "Any friend of Bodan is a friend of old Gorim. Come by my stall anytime friend, you and your party are welcome. Alright folks, shows over." With that, Dorian stood rather shocked and exhausted with the seemingly bored Sten.

"Why did you pay her money?" the Qunari finally asked

"So you didn't get locked in a blighted cage again you insane Qunari!" Dorian near lit on fire with pent up frustration. Sten grunted a reply then turned to leave. "You're welcome, by the way! Blighted stubborn…"

Dorian groaned and rubbed his forehead rather viciously as he felt the day's events crash down on him. Dorian had never partaken a drink before, but Maker, after this day he would have gladly drunken a barrel of ale.

"Anyone else want to harass me?" he challenged the universe. "Actually, no. Don't answer that." He almost laughed to himself.

**A/N: **

**Not entirely satisfied with this chapter. I had fun writing it, what with all my cheesy humour. But, I dunno. Please PM me if you think of ways to improve it. Thanks :D**


	22. Suspicions

_Chapter Twenty Two: Suspicions_

Dorian leaned against the stone wall of the tavern, he chewed his lip as he stared intently to the house just across the street. His stone escort watched him curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side. Wynne bent into her staff tiredly, occasionally an impatient sigh would escape her mouth. Dorian paid no attention, his mind was completely elsewhere.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the house seemed slightly off. It set his nerves on edge.

"So, he is not actually in Denerim?" he finally said, more just to confirm his doubts.

"Indeed." The senior mage nodded. With his words, the mage straightened herself up.

"When did he leave?" Dorian asked his companion.

"No one is quite certain." Wynne remarked uneasily. "Some say a week ago, others longer. Some did not even realize he had disappeared."

"I see." Dorian nodded. "Tell me again, where did you say he went?"

"From what I gathered, he was heading South West, past Redcliffe. Others think he was heading to the Tower though."

"Funny, we just came from that way." Dorian's eyes narrowed. "No one has heard hide or hair of this man in Redcliffe, and people believe he headed that way… odd."

"The Chantry sisters agree, they have become rather worried as of late." Wynne's eyes moved to study the house. "It doesn't seem to add up. From what I've heard of this man, he isn't the type to wander off without sharing information on his adventures. Even his apprentice seemed uneasy when explaining his whereabouts. Rather fidgety."

"Yes… I am rather curious about this Apprentice myself. He seems to know little to nothing, for someone who is supposed to know quite a lot…" Dorian turned to Wynne. "Have the Templars been alerted of his 'missing' status?"

"They don't think it worth their concern." She shrugged. "They believe he has simply wandered off on another one of his wild goose chases."

"They might not be wrong." He chuckled. "I remember reading all his books, man went on quite the few insane journeys in his youth. But never without precaution. Still, we should go ask this Apprentice of his some questions. Even if Genitivi is gone, he might have left some information that could prove to be useful."

"Some of the Chantry people seem to believe he might have discovered something worthwhile." Wynne tapped a bony finger to her lip. "I agree, speaking with his apprentice Weylon might be useful."

Dorian nodded. He lazily pushed himself off the wall and readjusted his staff, Wynne sighed and continued to watch the house. Dorian had noticed the senior mage had grown rather tired the past few days. She seemed unfocused and sluggish. He didn't think much of it though, the rough journey was making its mark on everyone.

"You can go have a rest if you like?" Dorian smiled to her. "I can go and speak to him myself."

"Hmm… a lay down might be nice." Wynne nodded, her eyes visibly drooping. "But still, you should take someone with you. You never know." Dorian chuckled slightly and rolled his eyes at the seniors concern.

"Very well, I know just the man." He placed his fingers firmly to his lips and with a mighty blow an ear-splitting whistle echoed through the market place. Wynne winced at the noise.

"I will never understand how you are able to do that." She chuckled. "I can barely make a little tune."

"Practice makes perfection." He grinned. Within a few seconds heavy footsteps sounded the area followed by a happy panting. "Hey buddy. Care to join me for a little mission?" Dorian greeted his loyal hound. Spirit barked a response to his master.

"Very well, I'll leave you to it." Wynne yawned.

"Alistair said he would book some rooms inside." Dorian nodded to the tavern. "I'll meet you all there later."

"Did It want me to accompany It as well?" Shale asked, rather bored. "I have nothing better to do."

"I'm afraid you won't fit through the doors, Shale." Dorian looked apologetically to his stone friend. "You can go inside the tavern if you like? It seems to be the only building around here with doors large enough."

"And what am I to do in there?" Shale grunted.

"Have a drink? Keep an eye on our companions? Terrify the locals?" Dorian grinned at his friend.

"Hmmm I like how It thinks." Shale sounded rather amused.

"I wish you two would behave yourselves." Wynne sighed with her motherly tone. "Shale, I have some gems in my pack, would you like me to add them to your collection?"

"Oh yes! That would be marvellous."

"You know, for someone who hates birds…" Dorian grinned devilishly. "You have the characteristics of a magpie."

"Take that back!" Shale almost raised her fist. "Or I will squash you!"

"It was merely an observation…" Dorian cowered before his stone friend. "Err, shouldn't you two be going… you know, to add those gems."

Wynne shook her disapproving head and lead the stone giant inside the tavern, but not before Shale shot Dorian what looked like a warning glare.

"Alright, let's go and meet this Weylon chap." Dorian finally said to his hound.

Dorian and Spirit approached the house. It appeared occupied, as a little lamp flickered in the window. The place seemed maintained and well looked after, but as the mage grew closer, the more on edge he felt. Something truly did seem off about the place.

_Just being paranoid, no doubt._

He politely knocked on the door. Dorian listened to the clangs and smashes echoing from the house as the occupant was startled. Slowly the door creaked open and two little brown eyes peeped through the crack. Spirit sniffed the air and began to growl quietly.

"Yes?" a nervous voice asked. "What do you want? What are you doing here?"

A very odd reaction, Dorian thought. Again, he placed his feelings down to paranoia. Regardless, Dorian preferred to be cautious.

"Sorry to disturb you." He smiled. "I am looking for a Brother Genitivi. Could that possibly be you?"

"No. No, I'm Weylon." The man opened the door further. Dorian took in the sight before him.

The man's face appeared greasy and unwashed, as well as his hair. Two dark marks circled his tired eyes. His cheeks clung angrily to the bones, saying he looked gaunt would have been an understatement. Spirit continued to watch the man intently, the large hound sniffed the air curiously then seemed to edge closer to his master.

"I am Brother Genetivi's assistant." The man, Weylon, said. "Please, come inside."

"Thank you." Dorian bowed his head humbly as he stepped through the door, Spirit followed closely. Weylon almost jumped with fright at the dog's presence.

"Uh, do you mind if your…err pet, waits outside?" Weylon eyed Spirit hatefully.

"I don't, but sadly he does." Dorian sighed. He watched his dog's reactions, he thought it unwise to be alone in the house. The hound was acting beyond strange. This only added to his paranoia. "He hates to leave my side. Please, he won't be any trouble."

"Very well…" Weylon lead Dorian through to the sitting room of the barely lit house. Spirit continued to sniff the air, Dorian couldn't help but do the same. Something smelled Maker awful. "When I first heard the nocking… I was hoping you might have heard news of Brother Genitivi… wishful thinking it seems."

"News?" Dorian raised his eyebrow as he took the seat Weylon offered. "What news are you waiting for?"

"I haven't seen Brother Genitivi in weeks…" though Weylon offered a seat, he did not take one himself. Rather he paced back and forth nervously. Dorian put it down to stress over his master. "He's sent no word. It's so unlike him. I am afraid something has happened."

"Not many share your concern." Dorian leaned back casually in the seat. "They say he tends to wander off from time to time. But given the nature of his quest, I would think you would have heard news by now."

Dorian jumped slightly as a large black rat ran past his feet. Spirit didn't so much as flinch, usually he would have been eager to chance the easy prey. Dorian watched as the rat paused, it seemed to look to Dorian. Its head cocked to one side, then it scurried off again. Odd, Dorian thought.

"You… you know what he was researching?" Weylon's eyes grew wide with an unknown emotion. Dorian nodded. "Yes well…" Weylon scratched his neck. "Genitivi's research into the Urn may have led him into danger."

"Why do you think searching for the Urn would be so dangerous?" Dorian asked casually.

"Perhaps the Urn has been lost for a reason." Weylon fidgeted with his hands as his pacing grew in speed. "I pray for Genitivi's safety, but hope dwindles with each passing day. I-I tried to send help, some knights came from Redcliffe looking for him not long ago. I sent them after Genitivi and they too have disappeared..."

"How do you know they have disappeared?" Dorian leaned forward.

"Well…" the man stopped his pacing and looked nonchalantly to Dorian. "They haven't returned, and they sent no word either." He shrugged.

"Knights tend to not run personal favours. They report to their lord, and their lord only." Dorian frowned. "Are you so close that they would send _**you **_word personally?" Dorian tried to remain casual, but each moment in the house was putting him on edge. That terrible smell wasn't helping with his mood either. Spirit's constant fidgeting was unsettling as well.

"I… I don't know." Weylon seemed agitated by the questions. "After what happened to Genitivi, can you blame me for thinking the same thing could happen to the knights?"

"No, I suppose I cannot." Dorian leaned back, pushing his concerns down to his mood.

"Perhaps I am just a pessimist." Weylon shrugged. "I hope I am wrong."

"Well," Dorian sighed. "Where did they go?"

"No!" Weylon's outburst startled both the Mabari and his master. "Don't ask me where they went. You'll go after them, and what if ill-luck should befall you, too?"

"That is my risk." Dorian shrugged.

"This search is a curse, on all of us." The man continued his pacing. "Some things are not meant to be found. I know that now."

_And I thought I was a pessimist… _

"The risk is my own." Dorian stared the man down. "There is more at stake here than you are aware of."

"So be it…" the man reluctantly sighed. "All he said before he left was that he would be staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad, investigating something in that area."

Dorian nodded, he knew the inn Weylon spoke of. Wasn't that long ago they passed it. He felt slightly annoyed there was a chance he would need to return to that wretched area.

"What was he investigating specifically?" Dorian pressed. "I know the area well, any information will be useful in finding Genitivi."

"I don't know." Weylon shrugged, almost with boredom. "All I discovered from going through his research was that he was staying at the inn-"

"What?" Dorian snapped up to face the man, startling the already flighty Weylon. Another thing that didn't add up in his story. "You just said Genitivi spoke to you and told you personally he was heading there."

"Y-yes, of course he told me…" Weylon's eyes avoided Dorian. "But, I also went through his things to see if I could find other clues to his whereabouts…"

_That would make sense… if he said so sooner…_

"I see…" Dorian was an excellent judge of character, and the house wasn't the only thing that smelled off. "I suppose you found no other clues?"

"N-no, I didn't." Convenient, Dorian thought. "Everything pointed to the same place…"

Spirit continued to sniff the air, occasionally he would look to Dorian and a small whimper would escape him. Unsettling a Mabari was an uneasy task, and this man had successfully done so. Dorian watched where the dogs eyes focused, a room towards the back. Weylon noticed.

"You're wasting time!" he snapped with great annoyance. "If you insist on going after Brother Genitivi, you should leave as soon as possible…" Weylon headed towards the door, a signal Dorian's stay was out lived. Dorian did not move, neither did Spirit, who's eyes were firmly set on that room.

"I thought you said I shouldn't go looking for Genitivi, or the Urn." Dorian turned to the now sweating man.

"I mean, well…" the man's eyes avoided Dorian's once more. "You seem so earnest. If anyone is to find him, they should do it rather than later…"

"Or do you just not like me asking all these questions?" the cunning mage raised his eyebrow.

"I…I'm just his assistant…" Weylon struggled to reason. "I… I just follow instructions…"

"That's not what I asked." Spirit began growling once again. "You seem unsettled, is something troubling you? Are you alright?"

_Any more troubled and this man would have sweated away enough to drown us both. He has been this way before I began questioning…_

"Yes… yes of course." Weylon lied. "Thank you for your concern."

_Overly pleasant, for one getting the Orlesian Inquisition_.

"I… It's been a very difficult time for me and sometimes I don't know what to think or feel…" the man's demeanour seemed to shift, he was acting overly calm now. "I want Genitivi to be rescued, but I don't want more people to be hurt…"

Dorian almost reminded the man how a moment ago he was practically shoving him out the door. He almost snickered at how inconsistent this man was. He wished Leliana was here to see the man's attempt at lying.

"You understand, don't you?" Weylon looked to Dorian, but not with a plea one would expect. More a warning. One that said 'stop asking questions'.

"Yes, of course." Dorian lied. "I suppose, I should take my leave." He stood to attention, towering over the tiny man. Quite an achievement, for someone smaller than most. Spirit did not move.

"Follow in Genitivi's footsteps, if you must." Weylon shrugged, boredom returning. "But be careful."

"I will, and thank you." Dorian bowed his head.

He needed to leave this house and this little man, both were testing his patience. As he headed towards the door, he noticed his faithful hound was not following. Turning, he spied his dog had moved from his spot. Now he stood in front of the door which he had found so interesting. Dorian approached him. Spirit's growls echoed the small, stinking house.

"What is it boy?" he asked quietly. The response was another growl.

"W-what are you doing?" Weylon rushed towards them, a state beyond panicky. "You're not supposed to go in there!"

Though Dorian was a man who respected privacy more than most, his dog's reaction made him consider pressing the matter. Spirit was never this persistent. It didn't help that the foul stench seemed to grow in potency outside the door. Weylon's eyes grew with worry, another curious reaction.

_What are you hiding…?_

"I apologise…" Dorian tried to remain casual. "But, my dog seems to be very curious over this room. Is there something in here that would make him so?" Weylon looked as though he was searching for a clever answer.

"I'm sorry, but that room is not for guests." He avoided answering entirely. "It's full of books and papers, and I'd rather they were not disturbed."

"Ah, just what I need then." Dorian smiled. "I was hoping to look through Genitivi's research myself. There might have been something you missed-"

"I said no!" Weylon snapped. "Genitivi was a very private person."

_Genitivi __**was**__ a private person, was he…?_

"I understand that, but I just want to be-"

"I said _**NO**_!" Spirit turned and growled a hateful snarl back to the man's shout. "I think you need to leave. Now!"

"You're hiding something…" Dorian finally said. "I grow tired of your lies. I want to know what it is."

"No! Don't touch that door!"

Suddenly, Weylon pulled from his pocket a knife and charged with a force that seemed unnatural to such a small man. His attack was useless though. Dorian's Mabari jumped onto the man with such force, Weylon had no chance to dodge it. With a loud crunch, Weylon hit the floor. He barely made a sound as the life left his body. Dorian stared with shock, it had all gone so wrong so fast.

"W-what have you done…?" he stared down to the bloody mess left by the Mabari's teeth.

Weylon's small frame lay twisted and knotted on the stone floor, blood gushing from his broken and open neck. The man's bloodshot eyes stared up in horror, his last emotion frozen on his face forever. Spirit sat and looked up to his master, a tiny whimper escaped the hound. Though Dorian wanted to shout and scream at the dog for this act, he knew Spirit was only defending his master.

Rushing over to the kitchen basin, he retrieved a wet cloth and began whipping the blood from Spirits face. It all seemed so tedious, so stupid to clean the evidence from his hound. Dorian acted without thought, his mind raced with panic. Spirit had done nothing wrong, but if the guards were to see what trouble the visitors had caused…

Dorian turned to look down at Weylon's corpse and contemplated what to do with it. But what he saw, made his heart skip a beat.

"Sweet Andraste…" he breathed.

Laying in Weylon's place, was a man Dorian had never seen before. In place of a gaunt and pale face that belonged to Weylon, an olive skinned man with a bushy beard and balding scalp, stared up with blank and bloodied eyes. Dorian stared down, words and reason had escaped him. Had he gone mad? Was this not Weylon a moment ago?

Dorian could hear a scratching and whimper from behind. Turning he noticed Spirit attempt to open the door himself.

"Time to start making sense of everything…" he reached for the doorknob and turned it cautiously.

As the wooden door swung open, Dorian gagged and retched on the smell that emitted the room. Flies buzzed hungrily in the air. Even Spirit appeared disgusted by the smell. Cupping his face, Dorian took in the sight of the dimly lit room. Books and papers were scattered everywhere, boxes turned upside-down and various objects were flung about the room. It was if a small battle had taken place inside.

He grimaced as he entered, following his trusted Mabari's lead. Something had caught the dog's attention, Dorian couldn't help but fear what it was.

The hound stopped and pointed his large nose to a bundled heap piled in the corner of the room. Dorian almost vomited, the smell was beyond handling now. But, desperate for answers, he walked closer to the mess.

But as he approached, his stomach somersaulted in stress and agony. It was a sight not many would be able to handle. There, wrapped up like a snug baby, was a decaying Weylon. The same face that spoke to him earlier, was now curled up in a guillotine mess of rotten meat and bones. Barely recognisable, but Dorian was able to pick the face regardless. He was certain it would be a face that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

"What in the name of Holy Maker…" he gaged onto the floor, stomach heaving in pain.

"Tis an ancient form of magic." A sultry voice casually stated from behind. "Blood magic, to be specific."

"Flaming Andraste, Morrigan!" Dorian jumped all the while clinging to his stomach. "You scared the life from me…"

"Surely I am not as terrifying as the sight before you?" she almost laughed.

"No, I suppose not." Dorian quickly hurried from the room, holding his stomach in place. Spirit followed, his curiosity sated. "How long have you been standing there? I didn't even hear a door open."

"I have been here long before you arrived." She closed the door and strolled lazily after Dorian. "I am surprised you did not notice me."

"I think I would have noticed if you were lurking in the shadows." Dorian washed his face and neck by the basin. It eased his illness, but only slightly. "Unless… I did not think a rat would be in your comfort zone." He almost laughed.

"Normally, it wouldn't." she snickered. "But, I figured the form would be unnoticeable by this… imposter." She rolled the dead man's face over with her foot, studying his features.

"What made you suspect him?" Dorian turned, still slightly woozy.

"I sensed a dark magic in the air." She shrugged. "But, I detected no mages, nor did the Templars seem uneasy. I followed the trace, and found that this man was enough to peak my curiosity. Seems your hound felt the same." Spirit wagged his tail with pride. "That was not a compliment, mutt."

"I should have known something was up sooner…" Dorian shook his head. "Everything told me he was off, but I couldn't put my finger on it."

"Not everyone can detect this type of magic." Morrigan shrugged. "Flemeth taught me all forms of magic, this one included."

"What in Andraste's name _**is**_ this magic?"

"It is called Face Stealing." She said nonchalantly. "By using heavy blood magic, one can take on the form of a fresh corpse. But, it is only temporary. As the body decays, so too does the magic. In time, the spell drains the life-force of the caster, rendering them powerless and closer to death. That is why he was undetectable by myself and by the Templars, his magic was nearing its end…"

"That's… sickening." Dorian still felt light headed. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Cannot say. Not even the Imperium allows this type of magic. Says just how barbaric this is, if the Tevinter Magisters will not condone it." Dorian shivered with how blunt she was over the whole thing. "Regardless, we should leave. There is still a heavy trace of magic here, with both our powers in this house, Templars will grow interested."

"Yes, you are right." Dorian nodded. "But, we need to do something with the bodies…"

"No need." Morrigan already began heading for the door. "Soon enough Weylon's true body will waste away, now there is no spell binding it. As for this man, if he were to be discovered none would care for his demise. Dead strangers, tend to go unnoticed."

Dorian stared at the man, this did not put his mind at ease. Morrigan turned and studied his face.

"But, if you do worry for Templar notice, I would suggest asking a favour of your assassin friend."

"Zevran?" Dorian raised an eyebrow to her.

"Indeed. Would he not know what to do with an unwanted body? Twas his once line of work."

"That's true. Good thinking."

"I have been known to have a wise thought or two." She smirked. "But come, let us not waste more time here. I have a potion in my pack that will help with your ailment."

"I am fine." Dorian headed for the door, Spirit close behind. "Once the smell is gone I will be much better."

"Tis more than that." They stepped through the door, leaving the stench behind once and for all. "You have been exposed to the magic for far too long, if you are not careful, it can poison you as well."

"Oh…" Dorian felt his face go livid once more. "I-thank you…"

"Think nothing of it. Come, I left my pack by the tavern."

"You know Morrigan," Dorian smiled to his friend. "You are a true friend. Thank you for keeping an eye on me."

"I…" her face reddened. "Tis nothing, as I said. No need to get sentimental. I do this for self-gain, nothing more. I do still need to have Flemeth dealt with, you will need to be healthy."

"Yes, of course." Dorian tried to mask his grin. He did not buy the excuse.

"Oh…. enough." She frowned.

Dorian couldn't help but laugh. Morrigan, surprisingly, joined in. She wasn't as bad as the others seemed to think. She was possibly one of the closest things Dorian had to a family.

_I'll never tell her that though._

…

Leliana sat by the bar, her still damp hair hung messily off her face. Dressed casually in her tunic and pants, she was still granted some unwelcomed looks from several drunkards. She sighed and blew a few strands of hair from her view. She stared with boredom down to the tankard before her. Alistair was kind enough to buy her a drink, but she was not in the mood for one. Which he clearly was.

"Not thrissssty?" the blonde Warden slurred. Leliana couldn't help but think drinking wasn't something he was used to.

"Not really, no." she sighed and twisted her knuckles. "Have you seen Dorian yet?" she turned to stare to the tavern entrance once more.

"Nope." Alistair shook his head over enthusiastically. "Wynne ssssaid he was speaking to Gen-nen-tivi's apprentice, or something." He chuckled. "Weylon. I think his name was… that's a funny name. Weeeey-lon."

"Yes well…" Leliana rolled her eyes at the lightweight's drunken state. "He has been gone for some time… and on his own…"

"Awww, you miss him." Alistair giggled with a slur. "You miss your little magey-wagey."

"I-I do not miss him, he hasn't been gone that long." She lied. "Just, worry that something might have happened."

"Uh huh." Alistair downed another pint. "Cause he isn't a terrifying mage that can burn an ogre down, then cut its head off."

"Shh! Not so loud." She hissed when the bartender paused to listen to the drunks rambling. "Do you want a lynch mob to go after us?"

"Shhhorry." Alistair's eyes appeared glazed over as a thought entered his mind. "Hey, can I asks you a question?"

"I have a feeling you will, regardless if you can or not." She chuckled.

"Do you think I'm too soft?" Alistair pouted like a lost child.

"What do you mean?" she raised her eyebrow.

"I mean, do you think I am too naïve for my own good? That I think the world is all sunshine's and cake. That I don't see people for what they are… that I trust to easily…"

"What brought this on?"

"Just answer my question, Lelianaaaaa."

"Well…" she thought for a moment. "You do seem to think the best of everyone, this isn't a bad thing though, Alistair. And, you often see the word in a positive light, this isn't bad either."

"It can be." He snorted. "I should be more like Dorian." He grumbled.

"How so?"

"He waits for people to prove themselves before he trusts them. He's smart, he doesn't get hurt that way… he gets respect and admiration… no one thinks he is a fool. Or soft."

"Alistair…" Leliana sighed. "Dorian is the way he is because of the life he lived. It is not a choice. But, it is part of who he is, and I would never wish for him to change. Regardless of his actions or lack of, even he is still loathed and questioned out of ignorance." She recalled that horrid day at Soldier's Peak. "No one is seen as perfect in this world."

"But, him and I… we are two different sides to the same story…" Alistair frowned as he tried to think philosophically. "He was raised a mage, and I a Templar. We both had no family, well… I sorta did at one stage… and yet, we are nothing alike…Why?"

"I… I cannot honestly give you an answer." Leliana shook her head. "Perhaps it is because mages have less power given to them than Templars, they are quickly shown trust is difficult. Or maybe it's just because some people react differently to different events or lifestyles."

"Like you and Marjolaine?"

Leliana cringed at the mention of her name. It was too early for this conversation, especially with a drunk. She regretted sharing any information with Alistair, even before his first drink.

"Oh, sorry." Alistair winced. "I didn't mean…"

"It's fine." Leliana sighed. "But, I think you should probably retire. Is this not your twelfth drink? I know Wardens have a tendency to hold alcohol, but still…"

"Fourteenth." He grinned triumphantly. "But… you are right… as per usual. I can see why Dorian loves you so much, being so wise and clever and kind. He is very lucky."

An emotion Leliana knew all too well rang in his tone, jealousy. But of what she wondered. Jealous of Dorian for having Leliana? Jealous of the relationship they had? Or simply jealous of all Dorian was?

"And you are very drunk." She teased, trying to break the tension.

"Right again." He chuckled. He rose sluggishly from his stool. "I should get some sleep… Why is the room spinning? How the Fade am I going to get to my room now? Tell the bartender to stop moving the room!"

"I'll take him." A stoic voice boomed from behind Leliana, causing her to jump.

"Herroooo Sven!" Alistair hiccupped, then almost fell down. "Fancy a walk?"

"It is Sten, you drunkard." The Qunari, with little emotion, hooked Alistair's arm over his shoulder. "I will take you to your room before you make more of a mockery of us all."

"Naaaw, you do care about me. Leliana is right, you a big ol' softie."

Sten lead the drunk through the tavern. Many patrons stared after with both curiosity and caution, a wise emotion when it came to Sten. Leliana chuckled as her companions left the room. She looked around to see if she could spy any more of her fellow travellers. Zevran appeared to be the last that remained awake, he was busy flirting with a pretty waitress. She rolled her eyes, an afternoon in a brothel and still his lust was not sated.

Wynne had retired long ago, with Shale choosing to stand guard by her bedroom. The two had become quite close as of late. It caused quite a stir to the tavern when Shale stepped inside, but with the amount of coin the travellers threw at the owner, no one dared to say anything. Bodan and Sandal had left for their caravan shortly after Wynne, they refused to sleep inside. Morrigan, had not been seen since the group parted earlier that afternoon. Leliana wondered what the witch was up to, no doubt nothing good.

Then, there was Dorian. She fidgeted nervously, she hated how needy she was feeling. Not once in her entire life did she crave someone's company as much as she did that young mage. He had certainly cast a powerful spell over the bard's heart.

_Spell, very clever Leliana._

Over the slight chattering of the last of the tavern dwellers, she heard the slam of the large wooden doors. She turned, rather anxiously, and was relieved to see her dearest step into the tavern. But, much to her annoyance, he was accompanied by her least favourite person. Morrigan strutted into the tavern, closely beside Dorian. The patrons all seemed to stop and stare at the couple that entered the room.

She couldn't help but grind her teeth in childish jealously. Her mind was certainly in shambles, but could anyone blame her, after the day she had.

Many men cautiously watched Morrigan as her hips swayed with each step. Leliana hated to admit it, but the woman certainly had a way with a crowd. Dorian seemed to search the room, completely oblivious to the looks he too was receiving. Oh yes, the few waitresses who had been eyeing him up had not escaped Leliana's attention.

_Get a grip woman! You are acting like an animal in heat!_

Finally, Dorian's eyes met with Leliana. A wide grin spread from cheek to cheek, that same toothy grin she had come to adore. His eyes twinkled, she couldn't help but grin back. When he looked at her like that, what did she have to worry over petty jealousy? He waved, rather enthusiastically. She waved back, then with her hand beckoned him to join her. He nodded, but raised one finger signalling he had something to do first.

He turned to Morrigan, they exchanged words. How Leliana wished she could hear them. Whatever it was, it was apparently funny. Seeing Morrigan laugh was a rare treat, but it seemed to only be a sound brought out for Dorian. Leliana chewed her lip, not out jealousy, but contemplation. In another life, they would have been perfect for each other. She often wondered why Dorian chose her over the beautiful and mysterious Morrigan.

Dorian handed over an empty bottle, Leliana wondered what it once contained. Then, the two parted ways, much to Leliana's relief. Dorian's attention instead turned to Zevran, who was slightly annoyed to be interrupted. But, the elf's once smug look turned serious, businesslike. Quickly, the elf rose and before Leliana had a chance to wonder what Dorian had said, the elf left the tavern purposefully. A man on a mission, Leliana thought to herself.

"Do you always watch him? Tis most unusual." Leliana jumped at the unwelcome disturbance.

"Do you always lurk about, unwanted?" She grumbled back.

"My, my, we aren't very pleasant today… are we?" Morrigan smirked. "Could this have something to do with your past catching up with you?"

"What do you want?" Leliana near snarled.

"Just pondering on how many lies you have told us. Or more importantly, Dorian." Morrigan crossed her legs on the stool, smirking as she did so. How Leliana hated that arrogant smirk.

"I have not told anyone any lies." She ground her teeth.

"But, I see you are quite the little deceiver, after all." Morrigan's smirk grew to a grin

"Finally decided to gloat, have you?" Leliana almost snorted in annoyance.

"It simply suits my view of the Chantry that one of their devoted sisters should turn out to be so full of hypocrisy." She let out a mocking chuckle, unlike the joyous one she made for Dorian.

"There are good people in the Chantry." Leliana sighed, she grew tired of the same old conversation. "Many good people who are just there to help others."

"And apparently, at least a few who are simply pretending to be good."

"At least I was trying to be better than I was." Leliana finally snapped. "At least I regretted the evil I'd done. Better that than be someone who's never loved anyone or anything, least of all herself. Anything but that."

"It seems that at least you've got the self-righteousness down pat. Well done." Morrigan mocked with amusement.

"I honestly don't know why he puts up with you…" Leliana growled.

"I can honestly say the same for you." Morrigan's mocking tone turned sinister.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Leliana turned to Morrigan. Neither had noticed the bartender deciding to listen in, with a gleeful look on his face.

"Simply, that I have never attempted to deceive him. Nor have I tried to change him."

"I have done neither! Why would I even think on trying to change him? I care about him, and everything that makes him who he is."

"You might not have intentionally tried to change him, but regardless, you have." Morrigan snorted. "Look at him, is he the same person he was when you met him?"

"No, but I had nothing to do with that. He grew confidence and pride, that does not mean he changed who he is." Leliana shook her head. "And why do you care? You have shown that you care only for yourself, why say these things? Why now?"

"I…" Morrigan stared shocked for a moment. "I need not explain my intentions, especially to the likes of you. But know this, if you ever again put him through the torment I was forced to sit by and watch…. I will make you regret the day you entered that tavern in Lothering. Do I make myself clear?"

Leliana stared wild-eyed. Never had Morrigan been so passionate, about a person at least. She knew Morrigan had feelings for Dorian, but she didn't know how strong they were.

"I care not what you think, so do not let your imagination run wild!" Morrigan snapped when she noticed Leliana's expression. "My concerns are my own. As are my actions only to benefit myself."

Leliana continued to stare. She had forgotten what Wynne had mentioned when she had awoken from her comatose state. Morrigan had helped save her. It was not out of concern for Leliana, Maker no, it was because it was hurting Morrigan to watch Dorian suffer.

"You…" Leliana tried to think of a response. Suddenly, so much of her hate had vanished. Morrigan, was not what she appeared to be.

"Everything alright?" both Leliana and Morrigan jumped with the timely intervention. "You two seem a little… tense." Dorian's face was filled with concern.

"Enough, I grow weary." Morrigan huffed and rose from her seat. "I was told I have a room?" her eyes were on no one in particular.

"Here you go." Dorian smiled handing his fellow mage the key. "Get lots of rest, long day tomorrow."

Morrigan huffed once more and stormed off. Leliana continued to stare after her. Never had she been so wrong about a person. Dorian took Morrigan's place by the bar.

"You two had another fight, didn't you?" Dorian looked saddened onto the bard. "I wish you two could be friends."

"So… so do I." Leliana smiled. "Seems we only have one thing in common though."

"What's that?" Dorian leaned forward with interest.

"How did it go with Weylon?" Leliana changed the topic. "You were gone for some time."

"Um… not so good." Dorian rubbed his neck, he seemed to pale at the mention of the name. "I'll tell you about it later though, if that's okay. Would rather just relax for a bit."

"Certainly." Leliana smiled. "Care to join me for dinner and some drinks?"

"I would like that." Dorian took her hand affectionately. "I have read such an act is appropriate and normal when courting a beautiful lady with fine tastes."

"I am hardly a 'lady with fine tastes'." She giggled. "And, considering we fight darkspawn for a living, I would dear say 'normal' is not something we come by much."

"All the more reason to do so." He grinned. "Find us a table while I go and place my things in my room?"

"Of course." She placed a sweet kiss on his lips. "But don't take too long." Dorian smiled and headed towards the hall.

Leliana found a nice booth towards the back, hoping not to be disturbed. She ordered their meals, choosing items Dorian would enjoy. Unfortunately, she was served by one of the waitresses who showed interest in Dorian. Leliana had to bite her lip, and bite it hard.

Finally, Dorian returned. He was dressed in his casual white tunic and tan pants. Both appeared slightly too tight for his physique, rendering more unwanted looks. She made a mental note to buy him some new clothes, not that she didn't enjoy the view herself.

_Eyes on his face, Leliana…._

Leliana wondered how he could be so oblivious to the attention he often received. He never did think of himself as much of the sex symbol.

"Big bedroom." He said as he took a seat across from Leliana. "The bathtub alone is massive. I could get lost in it. Can't wait to use it." He grinned, like a child on Feast Day.

"It was nice to relax while bathing for a change. And to not have to bother you for some hot water." Leliana chuckled.

"I don't mind." Dorian smiled. "Anything to make you happy."

Leliana tried to think of a sweet response, when the waitress returned with their meals and drinks. Dorian eyed his platter off hungrily, while Leliana eyed the woman off. It didn't take long before she moved along, noticing the death stare she was receiving no doubt.

"This smells so good, and I'm famished." He grinned. "Antivan salad and trout, it looks delicious."

"I knew you would like it." She smiled. "It isn't the same as salmon, but it's the only fish they offer."

"You know, I'm not one to drink." Dorian said, avoiding eye contact. "I've never touched alcohol before. Only senior mages were allowed it in the tower, and only on special occasions."

"Well, I never drink ale. So, we are even." She smiled. "What shall we toast to?"

"How about to peace?" he lifted his mug with a smile.

"No, that is not good enough." Leliana chuckled. "We need something grand to toast about. Hmm, how about to our adventurous lives. May the adventure never stop." They laughed and clinked mugs.

"I would rather a peaceful life than an adventurous one. Kind of boring like that. Don't get me wrong, I have had some good times out on the road… but…"

"I understand." Leliana smiled and took a sip of her drink. The bitter taste tickled her mouth.

"A nice beach somewhere, with a good book… that's what I'd like." he took a large swig of his drink. His face screwed up in disgust. "Maker, people drink this stuff all the time? Uh. Anyway…. A peaceful life, filled with happiness. And some good company…"

Leliana drank rather quickly, she was trying to enjoy herself and forget the day as soon as possible. She chuckled at how Dorian struggled to keep his mouthfuls down. The two began to eat their well prepared meals. It tasted lovely, which was surprising, considering they were in a town tavern.

"Are you still willing to travel the world with me?" Leliana asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh of course." He choked on his drink. "Just, I would like to eventually settle down. Stay in one place, a nice place."

"I would like that also." Leliana smiled. "But, it is easier to take one day at a time."

"I never pictured you the settling down type." Dorian chuckled. "You are a free spirit. I would hate to be a burden."

"You wouldn't be." She smiled. "I do enjoy adventure and excitement, but soon everyone has to grow up. I have always wondered what it would be like to have a family of my own, raise children and grow old with the one I loved. Own a little cottage somewhere nice, away from all the wars and destruction."

Dorian paused, something dark flashed in his eyes. He looked down, focussing on his meal. Leliana wondered what troubled him, he looked so sad. Was it something she said?

"That sounds amazing…" he finally said. "And this tastes bleeding awful." He added with a forced chuckle as he swivelled his ale. "You're lucky I like you so much, I wouldn't drink this for just anyone."

Leliana chuckled in reply, but she did not forget his reaction. What did it mean? He had said he wanted to settle down, she too wanted that. Perhaps she frightened him by mentioning marriage.

_Or perhaps children? It is a bit soon to be bringing all this up… that must be it._

They continued to eat and drink in near silence. Occasionally light conversation would start up, but still, that moment remained on their minds.

…

Dorian smiled up at Leliana. Of course he wanted to settle down. He loved the idea of the small cottage, a safe haven away from all the dangers and dramas of the world. When he thought about that peaceful life, the only person he saw himself sharing it with was Leliana. But, there would be that one problem which would remain with him, no matter where he ran.

The taint.

Dorian didn't have a long life ahead of him. He wasn't sure when his time would come, could he burden Leliana with that knowledge, with the pain knowing her husband would one day walkout and never return. Then, there was children. Leliana was still young, and it was obvious children were not in her immediate plans, but as she said she did like the idea of having them.

Dorian did too, he would have loved to be a father. He knew this was all too soon to be thinking about, but it was still in his mind.

_Maker, we haven't even… well, we haven't…. and already you are worrying over children?_

Even if it were possible, would it be fair to start a family? When it all came down to it, he was still a mage. Magic ran in his blood, it would be very surprising if a child of his was not born with magic abilities. Then, they would be taken away. Just as he was. It wasn't fair on Leliana, or the theoretical child.

Dorian couldn't be what Leliana deserved. He never could. It was only a matter of time before she realized it. Maybe now he would be okay, but one day… he might not be enough. She deserved far better.

**A/N:**

**By the sword of Andraste! Chapter 22, I never thought I'd even get this far. Thank you so much to all my readers and for all the great feedback and reviews. Keep posting your thoughts and ideas and feel free to PM me, I wouldn't have made it this far without your support :D**

**Anywho, hope everyone likes this chapter. Its a bit different from the original scene of meeting Weylon, especially with the idea of Face Stealing (which is something that freaks me out terribly) it made sense though, as people around town should have noticed an imposter. **

**I added a bit of a love triangle moment, as it was requested by one of my amazing readers :D it isn't much of a love triangle I'm afraid, as Dorian doesn't return that type of feeling, but hopefully its enough to inspire some sympathy for poor Morrigan. **

**The next chapter will be filled with fluff, a bar fight, some steamy bits, and lots of angst. So stay tuned :D Thanks again for reading!**


	23. The Cold

**A/N: Hey! I'm back! Haha, sorry for the long wait, again. **

**Anyway, just a heads up; this chapter has mature content. Bit of a violent and unpleasant scene will be depicted in this chapter, but I tried to do it in a way where hopefully no one gets upset or offended by it. Violence is a touchy subject, as I am more than aware of.**

**There is also a bit of a 'steamy' scene towards the end. Don't worry, nothing too hard-core. But just a heads up in case people aren't into that sort of thing :) **

**Enjoy!**

_Chapter Twenty Three- The Cold_

The tavern had eventually come to life. The once near deserted bar was filled with men and women, drowning their day's worries away with a pint or two. As the night progressed, more and more people would enter the tavern and join in on the merrymaking. All completely oblivious to the doom which inevitably would befall the city. But even still, those who were aware, were still able to forget. Even for just a moment.

The room was filled with both chatter and music, the taverns minstrels played bouncy songs to add to the crowds spirits. A blonde elf, in slightly removed rogue armour, danced merrily in the centre of the room with one of the now clearly tipsy waitresses. Several of the locals clapped along to the music, while others slurred the typical remarks about elves 'knowing their place'.

But, tucked away in a secluded booth, sat a mage and his bard. Both grinned widely as they enjoyed each other's company and the many drinks they purchased. Leliana's laughter joined with the other sounds of the tavern, while her cheeky companion continued to tell his story through his slurred voice.

"I'm not joking, he actually said that." Dorian snorted as he raised his mug up to his dry lips.

"I don't believe you." Leliana's usually articulate voice slurred. "No one is that foolish."

"I'm being completely serious." Dorian paused dramatically before taking another swig. "He walked up to the Templar recruit and said 'Excuse me madam, but surely you are a demon? Because you've taken control of my mind… and my heart.'"

Leliana began her uncontrollable fit of laughter once more at Dorian's words. The mage smirked, feeling rather pleased with himself for causing such joy.

"And what did she say to him?" she eventually breathed.

"I honestly don't think she had a chance to say anything. Jowan got out of there the moment he saw Gregoir heading around the corner, with his usual scowl."

"I'm surprised he didn't get in trouble."

"Oh, he did. Not over that, but for trying to levitate the towers mouser cat. Jowan never could stay out of trouble long." Dorian smiled into his drink at the fond memories. "A trait he still has, it would seem…"

Leliana smiled sadly to Dorian. He shrugged. There was still hope for Jowan, Irvin had sworn he would keep an eye on the mage until Dorian's return. But even still, Jowan's fate was no doubt already decided.

"All in the past…" he eventually sighed.

"I can't imagine you being much of the trouble maker." Leliana smiled, trying to brighten the mood. "I picture a young bright eyed mage, with perhaps ears slightly too big for his face, nose down in some large tome." She teased. Dorian grumbled while he made sure his hair covered his 'large' ears.

"Hey, I could be a bad boy… if I wanted." He chuckled. "I was just too clever to be caught. Granted, what I got up to was never as bad as Jowan or his friend Anders, but still. It was wiser to behave in the Tower."

"Prove it." Leliana challenged with a wink, causing Dorian's already red cheeks to intensify. "What terribly dangerous mischief did you get up to as a boy?"

"Well…" He smirked. "I don't mean to brag but, I was often out past my curfew." Leliana began another chorus of laughter. "Hey, that's a pretty big deal. Maybe not as much as tormenting a pretty recruit or terrorising a cat, but still."

"Come on, even I can do better than that." She took another drink.

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." He grinned. "I picture a little redheaded girl, bright cheeks, dressed in a flowery dress… running around swiping coins from her mistresses servants."

"Hey!" she squealed while feigning hurt. "I was a very well behaved child… most of the time. Regardless, we were discussing your not so perfect behaviour."

"Well, I did once steal something from Irvin's office." He awkwardly rubbed his neck. "On a dare."

Leliana's eyebrows raised slightly, a cheeky smirk touched the corners of her mouth. Clearly, she didn't believe the somewhat innocent mage.

"It's true. Honest to Maker." He crossed his heart. "Rumour around the Tower was Irvin kept a stash of restricted tomes and books in this office. Various books confiscated from recruits and new arrivals. So, Jowan dared me to take a peek inside Irvin's office while he was out. He told me to find something 'saucy' and bring it back as proof."

"And did you find anything?" Leliana raised an eyebrow. Her interest returning.

"I certainly did." He began laughing. "I found this Rivain romance novel, similar to the one I read this afternoon. Why it was in his office, I'll never know. Unless Irvin… No, I don't want to picture that. Anyway, before Irvin could arrive, I stashed it inside my book bag and ran out as fast as my scrawny legs could manage. I told Jowan exactly what I found, but I said if he wanted to see it he had to pay up. He would need to do my chores for two weeks and hand over his dessert for a month. Which really bugged him, because he actually liked the Tower's pudding. Might have tasted like watery mush, but it was the sweetest thing we had as kids…Anyway, what was I saying?"

"That you stole a dirty book from your First Enchanter and was bribing your friend for pudding." She couldn't help but giggle.

"See, when you put it like that, its seems more comical than rebellious. So in the end, I showed him the book and he nearly died with laughter."

"Did you keep it?" Leliana's lip twitched.

"Maker no!" Dorian choked on his drink. "I ended up returning it the next day. I had no use for it once I read the first few chapters, it all just seemed to repeat itself. Irving never even suspected it was missing, or at least never acted on it."

"So, you read the book, huh?" Leliana leaned onto one hand and raised an eyebrow. "How very scandalous."

"Uh-yeah…Well, I was a teenage boy. I… forget I said anything…" he refused to look at his companion, whose face mimicked the cat who ate the cream. He could feel his ears burn with embarrassment.

"Read anything worthwhile?" she purred, furthering Dorian's summary of her appearance.

"Wouldn't you like to know…?" he chuckled into his mug, looking up slightly to notice Leliana's eyes widen in interest.

"Oooh, how very scandalous indeed. Perhaps you should have taken up drinking some time ago." She giggled. "The truth comes out about your more questionable adventures."

"Not entirely innocent, now am I." he grinned devilishly. "Not that reading creates experience. I am still probably as innocent as a fluffy critter, when it comes to near everything."

Leliana smirked as Dorian's eyes avoided her.

"You were my first kiss, you know." He awkwardly mumbled. She continued to smile.

"I know." She giggled. "I hope I made the experience… worthwhile?"

Dorian could have sworn his face was actually on fire. Unsure if it was a side effect from the many drinks he had, or the suggestive look Leliana kept giving him. His eyes remained on his drink. He eventually put it down to mostly embarrassment.

"It was…" he breathed. "Utterly amazing…"

"Oh," Leliana couldn't help but giggle. Something she had done an awful lot more since her drink count rose in numbers. "It was quite amazing, in my experience. But, practice does make perfect." She added with a wink.

"That's what they say." He nervously chuckled. "Good to know I wasn't a complete failure."

He leaned in over the table, hoping to steal a kiss. The alcohol was making him slightly more cocky than usual. Leliana remained still, leaning onto her hand and looking at the mage with a rather pleased smirk.

"I look forward to practicing." She purred. "And, for sharing other first…experiences…"

Dorian suddenly froze, eyes large with shock. He could feel something soft rubbing against his inner leg. A foot, he assumed. He stared, throat drying as the idea set in. A not entirely unappealing idea, mind you. Leliana's composure did not change, she continued to study his features, waiting for a response.

Dorian felt his stomach bubble with nerves. Wasn't it a bit soon to be talking about…that? They had only formerly established a relationship a day or two ago. Was he ready for that kind of step, he wondered.

"I uh…" he stuttered finally.

"And how are we all this fine evening!" an overly cheery accented voice interrupted, causing the flustered mage to jump back in his seat. "I hope I am not interrupting anything…" Zevran smirked, he knew he clearly had.

"We are fine. Talking, actually." Leliana glared the elf down. Zevran returned a mischievous look. "So if you don't mind…"

"Actually," he grinned. "I was wondering if I could steal you away, lovely Leliana. I'm hoping to take over the dreary musicians that have been playing the same song for near an hour. The bartender said I'm welcome to, considering how much coin I've blown. And, being a fellow musician-"

"I'm busy right now." Leliana continued to glare. Dorian sat nervously, still processing the previous discussion. "Besides, I don't want to leave Dorian on his own. It would be rude."

"Oh, very well." Zevran grinned. "Well, you know where to find me." With that, the elf returned to the crowd, as if he had never left. Leliana did not stop glaring as he walked away, clearly annoyed with the moment being spoiled.

_I have a suspicion that was part of his plan…I am somewhat grateful, mind you…_

As if Zevran had created an invitation for guests, the waitress who served them earlier arrived to clear the table. She quickly gathered the empty mugs, clinking them together carelessly as she did so.

"Any more for you two? Or have you had your fill?" she asked in a clearly bored tone. She blew the few stray strands of her bun out of her pretty face. Leliana's icy look turned to her.

"Yes, big ones!" Dorian blurted out. Leliana looked to him, and couldn't help but giggle. Her happy nature returning once more.

The woman smiled to Dorian and shot Leliana an annoyed look, then left with her now full tray. Leliana seemed to ignore her, and instead stared off into the distance.

The taverns music changed note, as a new instrument added into their repertoire. Zevran's flute took charge and began ordering the others to follow. It was one of his more well-known songs, an Antivan melody he often played on long night watches. Slow, and peaceful. How unlike the assassin.

Dorian's eyes followed to where Leliana stared off. She watched as the minstrels' played along with Zevran. She had mentioned once to Zevran this song was particularly popular in Orlais.

The waitress returned, but said nothing as she noticed the two were far from caring for her presence. She simply left, giving up on any previous conversation starters she had planned. Leliana took her mug, her eyes leaving the musicians and landing on the yellowish liquid before her. Dorian took a drink as he listened to the music.

"Do you, remember our discussion?" Leliana finally said, breaking Dorian from his thoughts.

"Hm?" Dorian looked up. He tried to think back to a discussion of worth, his brain felt sluggish from the alcohol. He thought about the songs context, and recalled the day they had endured. "The one from this afternoon? In the store?" she nodded.

"I-I just wanted to tell you that I thought about what you told me. And…maybe you were right." She sighed, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm always right, you should know that by now." He cheekily admitted, hoping to lighten her spirits. It seemed to work, as she looked up and laughed slightly.

"I'm being serious, you goose." She shook her head in amusement. "Despite what Marjolaine said, I am not like her. I know that now. I have found peace in knowing the Maker, and nothing will change that. I followed you to make the world a better place, and as long as I keep that in mind, I will not fall."

Dorian smiled. He was glad she realised just how good she was. How kind and pure her heart could be. She was nothing like that monster, he knew that.

"Sometimes, it takes another to show us the truths we hide from ourselves." Her fingers traced the rim of her mug, eyes lingering on the source of the music.

"Yes." He nodded. "You taught me that one. It's about time you followed your own teachings, Leli."

She looked up, no more pain in her eyes. No more regret or confusion, only joy. Clearly she approved her nickname.

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Dory." She grinned cheekily. "How wise you are."

He grinned, feeling beyond happy with himself. Suddenly, Zevran's flute changed its pitch. The music turned into something happier, something worthy of dancing. How Dorian wished he could dance.

"Alright." Leliana took a large gulp from her mug, then studied his face. "Come on." She rose. Dorian stared to her, slightly confused.

"What?" he asked, as Leliana began to pull him away from the table.

"Let's dance."

"_**What!?**_" Dorian immediately tried to pull away from her. She continued regardless, even laughing at his childish struggles. He couldn't believe that she practically read his mind. "I-I can't…"

"Practice makes perfect." She grinned as she finally succeeded in pulling him from the chair.

_I am starting to hate that saying…_

"I don't know…how…" he protested as he was lead past several of the bars occupants. Leliana marched on, like a warrior heading into battle. Excited would have been an understatement.

Finally, she reached a spot to her liking, somewhat in the middle of the few patrons who decided they wished to dance also. Dorian spied Zevran, who despite having a flute pressed to his lips, a large smug grin was easily noticeable on the assassins face.

_He planned this…I know he did._

Leliana turned, her beautiful blue eyes lit with joy. Dorian melted under their gaze, how could he not give her what she wanted, when she looked to him like that? She pulled him close, placing his left hand on her waist and taking his right in her own. Dorian stared down to his partner, terror sinking into his body. He was about to either fall over, or crush her feet.

_Perhaps both?_

She simply smiled up to him. Her lips moved to form words. Though Dorian couldn't hear her, he was still able to understand.

"_**Trust me."**_

He nodded. Her feet began moving, which automatically caused the mage to look down. He attempted to move with each step, only to stumble awkwardly. He was still a little distracted with where his hand was placed. Leliana's hand that rested on his shoulder moved up to his chin, forcing him to look up. Again, her mouth moved to form the words _**'trust me'**_. He nodded once more, this time with a smile.

Focussing on her eyes and not their feet, he was able to somewhat keep in step with his partner. She moved slowly, making sure he would keep up. Soon enough, he was beginning to get the hang of it. In no way was he as graceful as Leliana, but he was certainly tripping less and less. Leliana's smile grew. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head against his chest. Dorian held her closely. He felt time slow, as they moved with the music. He couldn't help but wonder what he ever did to deserve such happiness. Happiness, that only existed in the dusty books on the shelves in the Circle.

Eventually the music stopped, and the tune changed. Leliana looked up, a cheeky grin touched her lips. She positioned her hands back to their original spots, preparing to teach him the steps to another song. He laughed as her lips moved to form her favourite saying;

"_Practice makes perfect."_

…

After what felt like an eternity, Dorian and Leliana took a seat by the bar. Both were slightly out of breath, but large smiles were frozen on their lips. The minstrel's music had ended, due to how late the evening was and the fact staff had begun to leave. Only a few patrons remained awake, and even they grew quiet as the evening progressed. Zevran was content with speaking to the musicians, over what Dorian couldn't say. But the group regularly broke into laughter. He truly wasn't that curious though, as he smiled lovingly to Leliana. Where his attention was, was certainly more enjoyable.

"Thank you." He leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You are a good teacher."

"Only when the subject is enjoyable." She chuckled. "And the pupil is, as well."

The alcohol was almost out of Dorian's system now. Burned up by his tainted blood, but still he felt a joyful buzz with how the night had transpired. Leliana began to look slightly sleepy, feeling the effects of her drinking hit full form. Dorian hadn't realized just how late it was. If Wynne had seen their display, she surely would have scolded them. He laughed.

"What?" Leliana smiled, though a yawn eventually followed.

"Just thinking how naughty we are for staying up past bed time." He chuckled. "Perhaps we should retire?"

"Hmmm, perhaps." Leliana yawned once more.

Dorian stood to escort Leliana to her room, when suddenly a drunk stumbled up to the bard. The large man's eyes were glazed over. Dorian recognised him, this man had been there longer than Dorian was, and had no doubt drunk more. His breath stunk of cheap ale, he looked Leliana up and down. His bushy eyebrows crinkling in the middle as he contemplated something. Leliana hadn't noticed his presence, but Dorian definitely had.

"Well, well…" the drunk slurred. "I haven't seen you here before. Not from 'round these parts, pretty girl?"

Dorian's eyebrows furrowed as he felt his hands twitch. Alcohol and a dark temper was clearly not a good mix. Leliana turned to the man, startled by the strangers approach.

"No, no I'm not." She shrugged. "Now, please excuse me." She turned away from the man, showing clear disinterest. Dorian nearly laughed with how blunt she was.

"Hey now, no need to be rude." The stranger burped, causing the air to stink up further. "Why don't you come over and sit with me for a bit? Let me buy you a drink. Tell me 'bout where you're from. You sound Orlesian."

"That's because I am." She said, with annoyance in her voice. "Thank you, but I politely decline." She added with a fake smile, trying to remain polite.

"Such a pretty voice…" the man slurred, stepping dangerously closer to Leliana. Dorian nearly bit his lip in supressed rage. "And face… No doubt, pretty all over… shame I can't tell through all this clothes…"

Dorian stood to attention, that was enough for him. He was ready to melt the smug drunken smile from the slimy man's face. Leliana raised her hand gently to Dorian, signalling him to calm down. The man didn't even so much as look in Dorian's direction.

"I've had my eyes on you for a while." The drunk continued, his stance swaying like a branch in the wind. Dorian was certain if he tapped him, he would fall down.

"If you have been watching me, then you would have noticed I have company." She nodded to the near fuming mage. "And I am quite satisfied with where I am, and who I am with. Thank you." She added forcefully.

The drunk looked to Dorian, then puffed his already large chest out. His face curled into a look of arrogance, declaring he thought nothing of his so called 'competition'. His hands reached down to grasp at his cheap belt, drawing attention on his sword. If Dorian didn't know any better, he would have assumed this was some form of asserting dominance.

_Perhaps if we were dogs, or bears. Well, he very well could be half bear. Big, hairy, smells… about as eloquent as one, might I add. _

"I did notice." The drunk grunted, his attention returning to Leliana. "And I aint impressed. Pretty girl like you should be with a real man."

"If you see one, will you let him know you are in need of an education?" Leliana sneered as her elegant words rolled off her tongue. The man blinked, uncertain how to take the insult. Dorian almost laughed at how composed and clever Leliana was, clearly she had been through this type of bravado display before.

"I-uh-what?" the man scratched at his matted unwashed hair.

"I said, no. Understand that word? No." Leliana said with a blunt and slightly angry tone. "A word apparently most men are unfamiliar with."

"What! You think you're better than me, you Orlesian's think you run the place? Think you can come in here and tease me, then turn me down! I seen you dancing, I seen the little show you put on."

Dorian's hands clenched further, nearly cutting off his circulation. How dare this… this, pig! Leliana had not asked this, she had not brought this type of arrogant display on, not at all.

"I said, no." she refused to look to the man. "Shall we go, Dorian-"

"You aint going nowhere!" the man's large hand grabbed Leliana's arm forcefully. "Listen here! Round here I am-"

Suddenly, before Dorian was given a chance to react, Leliana grabbed the unwanted hand and twisted it in a position it clearly was not designed for. The man squealed and whined as his arm protested the unnatural bend. He cried, the large beast of a man actually cried tears in agony. Some real man, Dorian thought with amusement. Leliana released, clearly amused with the sounds he made.

The drunk groped his hand and stared daggers to Leliana. She did not back down. She stood above the tear streaked drunk, proud and tall.

"You filthy Orlesian whore!" the drunk climbed to his feet, somewhat uneasily. "You filthy-"

"I told you no. What happened was your own doing." She said, hate rising in her voice.

The drunk's chest heaved in anger, his eyes bloodshot with both alcohol and from crying. His lips spat violently as he tried to think of a further insult. None came to mind. Instead he opted to raise his fist, the one that was not injured, and intended to strike the bard. Leliana stood her ground, unafraid of the coward before her, but before she needed to dodge the blow, another man's large hand grabbed the incoming fist.

The drunk looked at Dorian, foam near forming at his mouth. Dorian stared at him, his face twisted into a snarl worthy of a demon. He could feel the blue haze form in his eyes. How easily it would have been to simply kill this coward, he stood no chance against Dorian. He could hear a voice in the back of his head encouraging such ideas. He dismissed it.

Instead, he threw the drunk back with all his strength. The drunk almost snarled back in an alcohol induced fit.

"She said, no." Dorian spat his words with a venomous rage.

The drunk towered over Dorian, he could have easily went for a swing, but instead took a cowardly route and reached for his sword. Dorian didn't give him the chance. With a Maker awful crack, his fist met with the man's nose.

The drunk stumbled back, swearing and cursing. He spat words Dorian had never heard of. The drunk cursed something about Orlesian scum, then attempted to fire a punch back. Dorian couldn't see clearly, not through his glowing vision. He only felt, and what he felt was blood boiling rage. Another crack, and the man's face was pounded once more. Blood poured from the drunk's now crooked nose. A tap of blood, flowing down to his already dirty shirt.

It wasn't enough. As if the sign of blood was exciting to the mage, he raised his fist to connect with the wobbling drunk. But before he had the chance, gentle hands clung to his arm.

"Stop!" Leliana shouted. Dorian hadn't realised just how quiet the tavern had grown. "You've made your point."

He turned to her, feeling the blue leave from his eyes. He was able to see her clearly, her face warped in worry. Not for the drunk, but for her mage. Dorian lowered his hands, ready to call it quits. He opened his mouth to apologise to Leliana, when he felt something smack into his stomach. Before he had a chance to register, the towering drunk had sprung up and tackled the distracted mage. Another cowardly attack.

As if the bar required something to further spice the evening up, several drunks got into separate scruffs. Bottles were broken, chairs kicked about, fists thrown in all directions possible. There needn't be a reason to fight, the patrons just did. Even Zevran jumped into the fray, a gleeful look on his face. The elf decided he wanted to cause some damage, smashing a glass mug over one of the racist drunks head. He proceeded to laugh as the man fell to the ground.

Dorian regained control in the fight, rolling out from under the bleeding drunk. The man was probably unable to see anything clearly as it was, but regardless Dorian moved too quickly to be taken down by some oafish brute.

The enraged mage continued to land hits on the now busted face of the furious man. The giant of a drunk was far too inebriated to coordinate a decent hit, but occasionally Dorian's attacks were too focussed on offence to care for defence. And so, the stone like fists of the drunk at times landed on the thin frame of the practically glowing mage. Searching for anywhere of impact, but still not enough to break Dorian from his hate filled onslaught.

"That's enough you bunch of drunken yahoos!" an elderly woman's voice boomed over the ruckus. She violently banged on a pot with her rolling pin, dressed in a nightgown and hair tied up in a messy bun. Clearly the noise had awoken her. "If I have to call the guards I'm going to hang each and every one of you louts myself!"

Majority of the fighting men and women quietened down immediately, once they noticed the cranky proprietor had been disturbed. It was amazing to see such surly and frightening people be scared off by a tiny elderly woman.

"Aw, Edwina… they just having a bit of fun…" the bartender mumbled, who had been laughing as he watched the fray. He quickly averted his eyes when the woman scowled at him.

Dorian and the drunk had not stopped. The bleeding and exhausted man continued to violently swing at the mage, who was now sporting a busted lip. Dorian continued to ignore swing after swing, focussing more on destroying the man with his bloodied fists.

"I said enough!" Edwina shouted at the two final brawlers.

Several large men rushed over to aid the woman, they struggled as they pulled the hate-filled men apart. Dorian, especially.

"Hey now, take it easy…" one of Dorian's captors tried to sooth.

Dorian huffed and growled as he struggled the hold. The drunk glared back, blood splattered his already grimy face. A large purple circle covered his left eye, his nose was broken into an awkward position and his jaw seemed swollen. Not enough, Dorian wanted to leave more marks.

The drunk breathed heavily, feeling his adrenaline rush end abruptly. He coughed and heaved, blood spluttered from his mouth, as well as several chunky clumps. Dorian assumed they were once teeth.

"Get him cleaned up and send him home!" Edwina barked. "I've had enough of this bastard causing trouble."

"Your siding with that outsider!" the drunk shouted at Edwina, hate returning in his clouded eyes. "I come here all the time!"

"And you break something every time you do!" the woman shouted back. Dorian continued to stare down the drunk, he wasn't finished yet. "I side with the coin, which this bloke has more of."

The drunk spat hatefully in Edwina's direction, then returned to glaring Dorian down.

"Get him out of my sight!" Edwina ordered. The men nodded and obliged.

The drunk presumably was considering putting up a struggle, but his limbs were beyond warn out. Instead, he allowed his two escorts to practically carry him out. Much to Dorian's remorse. He still had a few decent hits to land on that smug face.

"And you!" Edwina pointed an accusing finger at the still fuming mage. She reminded him of a surly Wynne, another time he might have laughed. "No more trouble from you, at least for tonight."

With that, she went back to her room, assuming the remainder of the evening would be near silent. The men who volunteered to pin the furious mage, released him and backed away before they became victims to Dorian's fury. Dorian continued to huff in exhaustion and rage.

It didn't take long before his adrenaline wore off. He soon began to feel the pain of both the fight and sobering sink in. He began rubbing his sore fists and looked around to the remnants of the scuffle. Waitresses grumbled as they swept up the broken glass and bottles, complaining they weren't paid enough. Patrons began awkwardly taking their leave, feeling the night was most definitely over. Zevran had even vanished, Dorian wondered where he had slipped off to. He was too busy to notice the elf had even left. Which reminded him, someone else had left.

"Leliana?" he turned to where he last saw her, but found no one. He looked around, anxious to see where she went. Regret seeping in, he shouldn't have acted like that.

He looked over to where the bedrooms were and noticed a flash of red enter a room, followed by an echoing slam.

"Shit." He muttered.

…

Leliana fumed. Her hands visibly shaking, with both panic and rage. She chewed her lip, near breaking the skin.

"_I said no."_

She kicked a nearby chair, feeling satisfied with how far it travelled. She continued to pace back and forth in her room. Men, she thought viciously.

"_**Please… mercy…"**_

She shook her head, trying to suppress the memories from returning. The memories which kept visiting, ever since Marjolaine's name had been mentioned. Memories, of the night of her betrayal. Her hand reached up to hold the spot over her stomach. Her imagination toying with her, feeling its tender sting. A wound long healed, but a scar remained. As they all did.

She pushed her memories down, along with her tears. But as she felt the large, forceful hands clench around her slender arm, all the pain broke free. For a moment, she was back in that dungeon. Helpless, against another's violence.

_**She cries out in pain. No one cares to listen. Several heavy cracks of the whip sound behind her, warning of the soon contact on her once perfect, unblemished skin. A voice laughs somewhere in the distance, a raspy voice, unmistakably male. They all were, not a single woman was in this cell. Except her.**_

She almost slapped her face. Get a grip, she ordered. They are memories, they aren't happening. Not anymore. But in that moment, when that drunk grabbed her, she felt all the same feelings. Helplessness, terror. Only this time, she wasn't helpless. As she proudly proved to the arrogant man.

_I should have done far worse to that pig! _

Leliana shook her head. That drunk wasn't who she wanted to hurt. But it didn't matter, not anymore. The man she still wanted to cause pain to, was long dead. A body rotting in a ditch, never to be found. And sadly, she had not allowed the moment of satisfaction to herself. She granted another to end his life. Gave her vengeance, to someone else.

_**The room is so dark, the only slight bit of light that can be seen is coming from a crack under the door. The whip cracks once more, threatening for an answer. An answer she shouldn't have had to give.**_

"_**I told you everything!" she cries out, pleading. **_

_**Her captor smirks, knowing it is the truth. Marjolaine told him all he needed to know, enough to secure her safety in the matter. The whip cracks once again. Leliana screams out, this time it meets with flesh.**_

"_**So pretty…" the raspy voice coos. "Such a shame to ruin such a… lovely body…"**_

"_**Indeed." Leliana's captor's grin could be seen, even in the blackness. "But, it is only the start."**_

"_**Maybe we should, enjoy the beauty, while we can-"**_

"_**No!" the man barks. "I was paid good coin to ensure **__that__** doesn't happen. I keep my bargains."**_

_**Leliana silently thanks whatever divine force had intervened at that moment. She refused to thank Marjolaine, rather she wondered why the bitch had decided to spare that humiliation. Perhaps a final sign of ownership. Marjolaine knew Leliana was soon to die, her property was soon to die. She would die, having spent her final moments of intimacy with Marjolaine. **_

"_**Such a shame." The raspy voice sighs. "Still, at least I have a nice view…"**_

_**Leliana closes her eyes. Tears continue to fall, just as the blood on her back does. She feels cold. Her body touched with the damp icy air from her cell.**_

_**Tomb, might be more accurate, she hopelessly thinks. More questions are asked, questions she has no idea how to answer. Her captor is toying with her, securing his own safety when his superiors are informed. Leliana continues to cry, pleading he knows she has no answer. Another crack, more broken sobs as leather meets with flesh.**_

_**It is so cold. She wishes there was a fire.**_

Leliana violently shook herself from her horrible thoughts. Though she was no longer chained in that dungeon, the prison remained in her mind.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the darkness from them. She then proceeded to walk to towards her room's fire, wishing to feel warmth. Her head throbbed in protest to her shakes, refusing to stop the memories.

She shouldn't have deserted Dorian, he was defending her honour. But she couldn't stay, she had to get away. As much as she wanted to watch the destruction, to feel some satisfaction, some justice, she knew she needed to leave. She was supposed to be better than that.

_Better than Marjolaine, and Harwen…_

As if watching Marjolaine die was not enough to sate her sudden lust for vengeance, she continued to hunger for more. Watching the arrow enter Marjolaine, watching her eyes roll back, it wasn't enough. If anything, it only added to her pain.

The cause of all her misery, was gone. Marjolaine was dead, by Leliana's hand. And yet, the memories remained. The pain was still there, burned into her soul and her body. Vengeance, did nothing for her, in the end.

She desperately wanted for the hate to leave her soul. To be free from her nightmares. To be free from her past. She wanted to be good, to be what Dorian saw. But she still doubted she could. Not when it was so easy to trigger all her pain and anger.

She sighed heavily as she leaned against the bedpost. She continued to watch the flames dance. How she loved the fire, the warmth.

…

Dorian paced back and forth, his soaked hair dripping onto his somewhat clean face. He had attempted to wash the remainder of the blood from his being, but occasionally his lip would tingle as a fresh trickle would run down his chin. If he wasn't so distracted, he probably would have just healed it. But, his mind was elsewhere. More specifically, beyond the door he violently stomped past.

For some time, the mage had been pacing, deep in contemplation for a form of an apology. With little to no success, he considered a simple 'I'm sorry'. But would it be enough, he couldn't be certain. He hadn't seen how angry Leliana was when she left. He wasn't entirely certain what he did wrong, but knew it must have been bad.

_Well, for one thing… you carried on like a hormone controlled idiot! There was no need to be so… vicious. You could have easily ended it…_

_I know… I just…_

The mage huffed loudly, then ran his somewhat sore fingers through his soaked mane. Spirit looked up from his comfortable spot by Leliana's door, his large black eyes followed his mater with concern. The Mabari let out a single whine.

"Yes, I know I should make sure she is okay." Dorian answered his dog.

Spirit barked twice, then tilted his head in confusion.

"I don't know if she wants to see me, that's why. She probably doesn't…." the flustered mage casually conversed with his dog. Anyone walking past would have thought the man had gone completely insane. Spirit whined once more, then barked.

"That's easy for you to say, you haven't done anything wrong." Dorian almost chuckled at his smug hound.

The large Mabari snorted, then proceeded to wag his tail. Dorian stared at him, his eyebrow raised in speculation.

"I am aware you seem to think you know everything." Spirit growled. "Yes, I know I won't know unless I see her… but…"

Dorian continued to pace. His gloved hands pressed firmly to his temple. A thought came to his mind, was Leliana even angry at him? Or was she upset over something else entirely.

There is still so much I don't know about her. This business with Marjolaine has certainly taken its toll. She is still grieving, even if she refused to admit it…

_Perhaps… it has something to do with that?_

Dorian sighed as he brushed a knotty clump of his hair away from his eyes. He then proceeded to lightly tap his forehead with the back of his hand.

_Or maybe she is just disgusted with how you acted! Why must there be an underlying meaning behind everything with you!_

_You acted like a monster! Just as badly as that drunk! She should be angry at you… you should be angry at you!_

"_**Stupide**_!" he shouted in Orlesian. Spirit lowered his head onto his paws, deciding the argument was no longer worthwhile. Especially since the mage was too busy shouting at himself.

…

Minutes passed as Leliana stared into her private fireplace. She remained perched against the bedpost, watching as the flames danced. As time passed, she was able to regain control over her memories. Pushing them down, once more.

_It may be unhealthy… but it seems to work._

She sighed heavily, holding herself tightly as she watched the fire flicker and crack. She wasn't certain if it was the alcohol, or her imagination, but she came to picture Dorian's face amongst the embers. His boyish smile, his scruffy hair, those big blue doleful eyes that melted her insides.

It was his eyes that initially drew her to him. From the moment she noticed him in the tavern at Lothering, she couldn't stop staring at those big blue eyes. So unnatural, so mysterious and inhuman. Eyes that hid an inner pain, a silent fight with himself. Eyes that beckoned for love, for compassion. It was his eyes, that made her realise how alike they were.

Her hands reached down to her sides, searching for the scars that were hidden from the world. She closed her eyes, picturing each line, each mark left for her to remember.

"Not all scars are on the outside…" she sighed heavily.

She thought once more of Dorian. She silently cursed her cowardice. She had abandoned him, to clean up a mess she unintentionally started. He had done something no one had ever done, he defended her. Many men and women had claimed to love her, but none would selflessly defend her, just as he had. She remembered the hate and anger in his eyes, but there was something else. A desire to protect, not to assert ownership, but to simply protect because it was right.

_People like Dorian, they do not exist. Only in the stories, the ones I so fancifully make up… _

_And I once questioned whether he was a true hero or not. A hero doesn't need to slay dragons, or rescue princesses, as I once believed. They do what is right, because they knew it is. _

_He shouldn't exists…_

But, none of that mattered. She had abandoned him. She swore she would always be there, and she failed. No doubt, he was hurt. She gasped, lifting a hand up to her mouth.

_Could he have been hurt in the literal sense?_

She soon dismissed that idea. Dorian was more than capable of singlehandedly taking out and ogre, let alone some drunk who smelled like one. No, the only hurt he would be, would be from her cowardice and ungrateful actions. Her heart raced as she pictured him angry, those blue eyes burning with a rage he could barely control. Never had the image frightened her, but now as she pictured his rage directed towards her, it admittedly sent a cold shiver through her.

But not just of fear, but of excitement. Though she was apparently a good person, who Dorian claimed had pure intentions, it was hard to deny that part of her life. The thrill of danger, at one point was all she knew. And come to crave. Though, she had to admit, that desire had dulled as the years progressed. She no longer felt such an unquenchable thirst for bloodshed, as she did in her youth, but still the idea of danger was enticing.

Maybe that was another reason she was drawn to Dorian. He was unbeknownst, in fact, danger in the form of a man. Magic coursed through his blood, dark and light. He was more powerful than any mage she had met, even though he never seemed to realize just how strong he was.

Negative thoughts raced through her mind. She began questioning once more everything she believed. Everything she felt. Maybe she wasn't different from Marjolaine, maybe she was unintentionally using Dorian, as a way to regain part of her past.

Leliana suddenly felt enraged with herself, and at Marjolaine. The woman was dead, but the seeds of doubt had been planted. She wanted to scream, to hit something, to feel pain, but more importantly to understand. She wanted something to make sense for once in her life. She had thought her love for Dorian finally was, but now even that seemed tainted.

She sighed, believing that night the answers to her questions would not be answered. She lightly banged her head against the post, then opted to undress for bed. Though she doubted sleep would come so easily. And even if it did, no doubt the memories would simply return.

…

The flustered mage continued to argue with himself internally, all the while pacing back and forth. Spirit was now content with simply watching the display before him, the hound realised no amount of advice would help the inner struggle his master faced.

"I need to apologise, simple as that…" he finally admitted. "I shouldn't have been so… so… Maker…" he thumped his body against the hall's stone wall.

Spirit raised his head and let out a loud breath of defeat. Dorian looked to him and did the same.

"You're right. I need to make sure she is okay, regardless." Dorian nodded to his faithful hound.

Straightening himself up, he walked with mock confidence to her door. He wasn't even certain Leliana was still in her room, there was a chance she left during his interval of cleaning wounds. Or perhaps slipped past him while he debated with the air. But still, he hoped she had simply retired. Without thinking clearly, he opened the door. Without so much as knocking.

"Leliana, I just wanted to-oh!" Dorian froze on the spot. Shocked with the sight of the Goddess before him.

Leliana stood with her back turned, lost in her thoughts as she stared down to her skin. That wasn't shocking, what was…was that her skin was completely exposed. All of it.

Dorian stood, both mesmerised and terrified. He tried to pull his eyes away, to be a gentlemen. To even simply turn and run. But, he was rooted firmly to the stone floor. His eyes, taking control over his mind, began tracing the smooth creamy skin of her back. They continued to venture, taking note of every single part that made up her body. His mind casted back to a time when he wondered just what she looked like under all her armour, the sight before him was beyond his imaginations abilities.

The smooth of her back was so enticing, he wondered if it was as soft as it appeared. Like a masterpiece, her body was surely crafted to cause envy. He took note of the crisscross patterns down her back. White against the pink that was her skin. He wondered what caused them, but it didn't matter. They only seemed to add to the gorgeous form that made up his beloved.

He felt his cheeks burn as his eyes lingered on the firmness of her behind. His body visibly shivered, practically melting away into the floor. He tried to pull his eyes away once more, tried to run and cower, but his legs were jelly.

_Maker… she is stunning…_

His mouth dried. He tried to breath, but suddenly learnt his body had forgotten how. Leliana suddenly turned, no doubt hearing the awkward gulping sound Dorian was making as he attempted to breath. Her eyes were large with fright, the entire time she had not noticed his presence. Dorian's heart practically stopped, finally awoken from his entranced daze.

"Makers breath!" Leliana squealed as her hands attempted to cover her flesh. "_**Avez-vous perdu l'esprit**_?!"

Dorian's hands violently slapped to his eyes. He did so with such a force, he literally knocked himself backwards. The door slammed as the mage fell to the ground. Leliana continued to squeal various things in Orlesian, though Dorian wasn't fluent, he knew they were not pleasant.

He attempted to get up with only one hand, and began fishing around in the darkness for a way out. Perhaps a hole to bury his shameful self in? He awkwardly stumbled around, smacking into everything and anything that came into his path. He eventually collided with a fallen chair, landing in a painful position. He forced his eyes to shut tighter, as he attempted to untangle with the chair. All the while shouting apology after apology.

He tried to stand once again, but tripped over the very same chair. Landing with a heavy thud. Leliana's hysteric laughter echoed in the room.

"Ah! Shit!" he cursed, as his head smacked into something that he assumed was a desk.

"What on earth are you…?" Leliana tried to ask, in between bouts of laughter.

Dorian was able to manoeuvre out from under the desk and attempted to continue his venture for the door. Another loud thud as he walked into something else.

_Where is that Blighted door!_

"I am so sorry!" he continued to chant. "I didn't mean to-Maker-I am so incredibly sorry! Ouch!" his head collided with something else.

"Hold still you bloody fool." Leliana almost snorted with laughter. Her hands grabbed the stumbling mage firmly around the stomach. "You can look now, I am decent."

Dorian reluctantly pulled his hands away from his eyes. As his vision returned, he began to see Leliana's face staring up at him. She did not look angry, rather she was amused. But still, Dorian noticed the redness of her eyes.

"What in Andraste's name were you doing?" she chuckled, her smile beaming up at him.

"I am so sorry! I understand if you never want to see me again…" his cheeks burned.

"What?" Leliana gasped. "I'm not mad. Just a little… shocked…" she looked more ashamed than embarrassed.

"I am so sorry!" he repeated.

"You said that." She chuckled, letting him go to take a few steps back.

Dorian noticed she had rushed to dress and was only wearing her long shirt. Her smooth legs were uncovered. He had to mentally slap himself from staring.

_Maker man! What is wrong with you?_

"I just wanted to apologise…" he rubbed his neck, avoiding her eyes.

"You already did that." Leliana crossed her arms, her smile turning into a smirk.

"No, I mean… over the fight… I shouldn't have, I mean, it wasn't okay to act that way…. I should have been more…I should go…" he turned to leave, but felt a soft hand on his own. He turned, only to have Leliana met with his lips.

She pulled him in hungrily. He felt his body heat up as his lips embraced hers. She moaned as he retaliated into the kiss. His hands went to wrap around her, but before he had the chance Leliana pulled away. Dorian stared wide eyed with confusion, this was not how he planned things. Not at all.

_Not that I'm complaining…_

_Shut up!_

"I should apologise to you." She avoided his eyes. "I shouldn't have run. You were defending my honour… I just, I panicked. I don't even know why." She wrung her wrists as she tried to speak. "I guess, I thought I was better. I thought, after everything you said, that I wouldn't find enjoyment in violence. In danger… I guess…"

"Leliana…" Dorian sighed, running his sore hand through his beyond tangled hair. "It has been a long day. Filled with more than one should deal with in a lifetime. You need time to process, all of it. Don't go deciding that you have yourself all wrong within a matter of hours. Besides, you have nothing to be ashamed of. He deserved what he got."

"I made things worse…" she mumbled. "I should have walked away…"

"Listen to me, please." His hand reached up to cup her chin. "You are not in the wrong. He is. No one should have to put up with… with that. I shouldn't have acted like that… but, I remember seeing how some of the women in the tower were treated... And to see it happen again, especially with you…"

"I shouldn't have snapped." She whispered, eyes still to the floor. "I made it worse…"

"I don't think so." Dorian shrugged. "I thought it was quite amazing how quickly you moved." He added with a wink, trying to cheer her up.

"I guess… some scars just won't go away…." Her hands began tracing some unseen line across her belly.

Dorian hung his head in shame, now it all made sense. The lines, the way she spoke, her reaction. All of it. She was remembering something, something she had screamed about while unconscious. The night, of Marjolaine's betrayal. The night she was tortured. She was not only forced to remember, she was forced to relive that night over and over. The memories, were literally traced into her skin.

Sighing, Dorian pulled off his gloves and stared down to his scarred hand. He didn't feel ashamed of his own scars, or his memories. Not anymore, thanks to the woman he loved. He didn't need to fear anything, not with her. For the first time since the mage could recall, he allowed the memories to return. The memories locked deep within.

"Sometimes, I remember things," Dorian began. "Small flashes, of blackness and fire. Of a man with a face like my own, and a woman with sad eyes. I think… I think they are my parents. I hear their shouting, the hate in their voices. They call for men in armour of silver, with faces hard like stone… They take me away, and no one misses me. I had a name once, but now it is not mine to have."

Leliana looked up to Dorian, her face of both pain and confusion. Dorian let out a sigh, his eyes intently focussed on the fireplace. He wondered if one day the fire would finally consume him.

"Then, I see those men in silver. They shout, they hit… they scare me. They too hate me, though I do nothing wrong. Everyone hates me, they call me a monster. A demon, born of fire. I'm told by others, ones who dress like I do, to never be alone. That bad things happen when you're alone within the walls. I should have listened. You can see your reflexion in the silver, unless it's painted red… I hide a lot, it's easier."

Dorian walked over towards Leliana. His eyes pulled away from the fire, to meet with the fogged blue of Leliana's. Her lips quiver.

"I don't know what these things mean… but they hurt to think about." His voice breaks. "They scare me…"

"Why… why are you saying this?" Leliana's voice too breaks.

Dorian placed his scarred hand into hers, then lifted his other hand to touch the mark above his eyes. She stared at him, tears swelling further, threatening to escape. He remembered her words, once said what felt like an eternity ago.

"Because… The bad memories cannot hurt us anymore…" he said, a smile touching his lips. His hand left his face, and was placed around Leliana's back. She stiffened at the touch. "Scars only add to the beauty of a person's soul..." he almost chuckled as he stumbled over his words. "What I mean is… You are beautiful, Leliana… and nothing will change that."

She continued to stare up, her eyes warm. A slightly stunned looked formed on her face.

"I love you…" he eventually said. "Every line, every curve. All of you."

Leliana continued to stare, several tears breaking free. Dorian felt his heart break, perhaps he was only adding to her pain. He almost slapped himself. Maybe he was better off leaving, considering all he did was cause pain.

"I'm sorry, maybe I should-" he was cut off as Leliana embraced him once more.

She kissed him passionately, holding him tight. He could taste the tears as they fell. They tasted bittersweet, cold amongst the warmth of her lips. He pulled her close, wanting her to know just how much he loved and desired her. She was his everything. She gave him the strength to move on, he wanted to return the favour.

Finally, she pulled away, both of them were out of breath. She looked up, her blue eyes clouded with tears. She smiled, despite the sadness in her eyes.

"I love you Dorian, all of you." She smiled wider. Dorian did the same, feelings his heart near explode with love.

Before he was given the chance to speak though, Leliana pulled him into another powerful kiss. Only this time, it wasn't desperate or pained. It was needful, a need to be close to him.

He paused for a moment as hands wandered over his chest. Contact that was new to him. Their kissing was quickly becoming something more. Leliana stopped, and smiled to him. She reached up to his ear, and whispered reassuringly.

"Trust me."

He smiled. Of course he trusted her. The kissing resumed.

Her hands snaked under his shirt, rubbing his warm, sensitive neck. Dorian moaned at the cool contact, sending shivers all the way down his back. His reaction only intensified her movements. She bit on his lip playfully, something she had never done. It shocked him a little, feeling the nip on his sensitive lips. His lips moved hungrily against hers, every now and then little pinching bites would tickle him. Occasionally it stung, the contact on his fresh wound still tender. He winced.

"Sorry, did I-" Leliana attempted to question, but was silenced when Dorian found her lips once more.

His body radiated with heat at the contact. His hands moved all over her back, feeling the smooth fabric against his hands. They began quickening in pace, with desperate need for each other's contact. Leliana began walking, causing Dorian to back slowly towards the bed. Her lips left his, and travelled down his jaw line.

"Your stubble tickles…" she giggled.

"Your lips tickle…" Dorian breathed against her touch. Hands pulling forcefully at her lower back, stopping any chance of space between them.

Leliana continued her venture of kisses, traveling down to his neck. The more her mage moaned, the more she did it. His body heat intensified. He was certain he was going to melt or set fire soon enough.

The rogue's fingers snaked under his shirt once more, icy hands meeting with the fiery flesh of his back. Dorian's grip hardened on her shirt. Leliana struggled to get a grip on his at all, she attempted to pull it over his head, only eventually successful once she ceased kissing. The tunic was carelessly thrown to the floor, and the kissing continued. Dorian's chest burned, his heart thumped rapidly. Leliana gently pushed the excited mage onto the large bed. He fell rather awkwardly, but hadn't a moment to think on it, as Leliana's loving attack continued within a moment's pause.

Her lips traced down his collarbone, and slowly onto his chest. She paused. Dorian looked down, his breathing heavy with both exhaustion and excitement. She looked up and smiled.

"You really are gorgeous, you know…" she purred as she continued to admire his rising pecks. Dorian blushed, as he normally would. But instead of going shy, he lifted his bard up to his eye level. A cheeky smirk touched his lips as he quickly flipped her onto the bed.

"Not as gorgeous as you are…" he purred, something the mage never thought capable of doing.

She grinned up, slight redness to her cheeks. This only made Dorian's smirk grow.

"Is that blush I see…?" he cheekily asked. "Have I made the ever confident Leliana blush, in such an intimate moment?"

"No." Leliana tried to hide her smile. "Just flushed from the-"

"Heat?" Dorian raised his eyebrow. Leliana answered with a giggle.

"You talk too much…" she teased. "You should put your lips to a better use."

"Is that an order?" Dorian chuckled, but was soon silenced when Leliana reached up to kiss him forcefully.

Dorian began returning the kisses, starting from her lips and moving down to her neck. He contemplated removing her tunic, but was uncertain if that would be wise. This was all so new to him. New, but not at all unpleasant. His body continued to rise in temperature.

Leliana's hands entangled in his scruffy mane, slight moans escaped her lips. Dorian's body continued to heat up. His hands felt like they were on fire. Leliana moved her hand so it met with his.

She moved it down so it could meet with the bare flesh of her leg. Legs which were now raised up, allowing for closer contact between them. Dorian couldn't help but sigh as he felt to cool merge with warmth. His hands were burning, it was staring to become uncomfortable. As was his tight pants…

Leliana's lips met with his once more. He hungrily kissed her, the fire in his belly almost ready to cause an explosion. His hands griped forcefully at her thighs. Her cool, smooth thighs.

"Is it getting hotter in here…?" Leliana seemed to pant.

"Hm?" Dorian moaned as his lips continued their assault on her soft neck. He could really get used to this.

"It is getting really hot…" Leliana continued to pant.

Dorian was starting to feel it to. Normally, the heat wouldn't bother him, but his hands felt as if they were aflame. Suddenly, Leliana squealed slightly. Dorian froze, he lifted off her in shock, hands pressed firmly onto the bed spread. His eyes met with hers.

"Ow!" she near shrieked in surprise. "What was…?"

Dorian jumped up to see what had happened. Leliana leaned up, her hand reached down to lift her shirt slightly to inspect her thigh. Dorian's eyes widened. There, very fresh and very clear, was a bright red mark. Dorian, had burnt her.

"Oh Maker!" he gasped, jumping entirely off the bed. "I-I-I am…"

"It's okay Dorian." Leliana smiled reassuringly, but even still, he could see the shock in her eyes. "I'm fine, it's-"

"I shouldn't have…" Dorian backed away, his heart ready to jump from his chest. "I-I-I'm so sorry… I have to go…"

He quickly leapt for his shirt and pulled it on furiously. Leliana jumped from her bed, panic in her eyes as the mage attempted to leave.

"Dorian, please, wait." She almost begged. "I'm not hurt. Actually, I think you did more damage to the bed…"

Dorian turned slightly, shame plastered on his face. He took in the sight of the now singed bedspread. Smoke rose off the blankets. He ran over to it, and attempted to stamp out the small fire. It didn't do much good, as his hands were still beyond a safe temperature.

"Here, let me." Leliana slightly chuckled. "I didn't like how they looked anyway. This adds character." She smiled up to him as she patted the tiny embers down with her now gloved hand.

"It's not funny…" Dorian clenched his jaw. "I could have… I could have really hurt you…"

"But you didn't." Leliana tried to embrace Dorian, but was lightly pushed away.

"I-I…" he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He felt sick. "I need to leave."

"No!" Leliana snapped. Dorian turned to her, puzzled with her reaction. "I am fine, okay. It isn't your fault, and you need to stop acting like it is."

"Don't you get it?" Dorian frowned. "This is why mages are locked away… why we are told to stay away from others… we are dangerous. Our powers are connected with our emotions… Maker! I am so stupid!" he slapped his forehead.

"Stop it, please." Leliana ran to him, taking his hands in her own. They had cooled down, furthering his annoyance. They had ruined everything.

"How can you love me… when I am made for destruction?" he sighed, feeling so much hate for all he was.

"Because," she gently kissed his hand. "You are made for so much more. You can do amazing things with these hands. The fire is only part of who you are, it isn't all of you."

"Fire is evil." Dorian frowned. "Demons come from the flames."

"Fire is warmth." She smiled. Dorian studied her eyes, she looked as though something finally made sense to her. He wandered what it was.

"I wish I wasn't this way…" he sadly smiled to her. His hands began to glow slightly, as he allowed his healing magic to flow to them. "Allow me to mend my mistakes? Use what little magic I have for good?"

"You didn't do anything-"

"Please…?"

He knelt before Leliana, as if begging for forgiveness. He looked up to her, she nodded reassuringly, even if it seemed reluctant. He gently hovered his hand above the reddened exposed area of her leg. It too began to glow as the magic took place. A shiver took hold of Leliana, as the red vanished from her skin. Dorian smiled, then planted a sweet but quick kiss on her now healed leg.

Leliana knelt on the floor in front of him. She stared into his eyes, his unnaturally saddened eyes. She gently brushed his fringe from his face, he half smiled back.

"Will you stay with me?" She asked quietly. "Just for tonight?"

"I can't…" he began, pain returning to his face.

"I just don't want to be alone…" she lowered her head. "Some memories I'm not ready to remember…"

Dorian lifted his hand up to her cheek, then planted a kiss on her nose. She smiled at the affectionate gesture.

"I will stay." He answered quietly. "To sleep…" he added almost forcefully.

He pulled her close, embracing her lovingly. His head rested on top of hers, he couldn't help but smile as she yawned into him. It had been a long day.

"I love you…" she breathed.

"I love you." He smiled as he stared into the now dying fire.

The flames flicked and danced as they slowly came to an end. As they did so, the room began to darken. A chilling and empty coldness took its place. Dorian couldn't feel it. He wondered if he ever truly would.

He looked down to see Leliana had succumbed to sleep, curled tightly in his arms. He realised then, he would only feel the coldness, in her absence. He smiled as he planted a loving kiss on her head. He held her even closer, never wanted to feel cold.

"_**Fire is warmth."**_

He remembered her words fondly.

_**Additional notes: **_

_**"Avez-vous perdu l'esprit? is French for "Have you lost your mind?" **_

_**probably the calmest thing I would say, if caught in that situation ;)**_


End file.
